


break your plans

by pizzaoctavia



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 92,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4045972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizzaoctavia/pseuds/pizzaoctavia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clexa college!AU: in which Clarke grows tired of hearing Octavia and Lincoln’s escapades in the next room, so Lincoln offers her his apartment for study. He fails to mention his heavily tattooed hockey player roommate in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Going into her sophomore year of college, Clarke Griffin is excited for a number of things. Firstly, no more introductory classes, meaning no more instructors teaching basic sketching methods as though their art major students _hadn’t_ taken art class throughout high school. Secondly, Clarke has finally mastered the ins and outs of campus, meaning no more awkward serenades from the A Cappella club who believe a poor rendition of any Madonna chart-topper will convince you to join. And thirdly, Clarke _finally_ gets to say goodbye to dorm life. This year, instead of dealing with a folk music adoring and Clarke Griffin-hating (for no valid reason, might Clarke add) roommate, she gets to move into a moderately decent-sized apartment with her two best friends.

(Bonus points for this year also come with Finn finally qualifying as a member of Bellamy’s frat; meaning Clarke no longer has to deal with being pulled between the boys due to the hazing rituals Bellamy and his friends put Finn through.)

It’s exactly how she imagines in the first month. Living with Octavia and Raven is easy, which doesn’t surprise Clarke. After all, she spent the majority of freshman year in Octavia and Raven’s shared dorm room anyway, usually doing whatever it took in order to avoid the company of her not-so-friendly roommate.

There are some small bumps in the road, as expected, but nothing that causes Clarke any genuine discomfort.

But then, Octavia starts seeing someone. Well, sleeping with someone is a more accurate descriptor. Octavia comes home one day rambling about her new study buddy from her Spanish class, and it only takes Clarke one look at her friend to recognize the excited glint in the girl’s eyes. It’s only about a week before Octavia’s ‘study buddy’ is promoted to ‘sex buddy’.

Now, Clarke isn’t a prude.

She doesn’t care that her friend has a healthy sex life. But honestly, when said sex life comes between her need for the perfect study area, that’s when Clarke draws the line. Of course, she _could_ just venture to the library, but the thought of sitting at an ancient desk with poor WiFi and a painful awareness of the not-so-subtle couples getting heated amongst the stacks… well, that thought is just about the least tempting thing ever.

So Clarke does what Clarke Griffin does when she’s reached her limits. She explodes.

Unfortunately for Lincoln, he’s in the room when she does.

Fortunately for _Clarke_ , Lincoln feels guilty enough to offer her a reasonable alternative.

Apparently, Lincoln’s roommate has similar complaints to Clarke, which is what has lead to the increase in the pair’s time at Octavia’s place. Octavia and Lincoln are partners for an upcoming Spanish assignment, and as a result, it’s not just their libidos that demand the pair to spend time together.

Lincoln (apparently not _all_ muscle, like Clarke had assumed upon learning of his athletics scholarship) offers her the key to his apartment with an apologetic smile and pressed assurances that his roommate is not an axe murderer. Clarke is reluctant to accept at first, but then she considers the chances of Octavia _actually_ sticking to her promise of keeping her and Lincoln’s study sessions family-friendly from now on, and Clarke takes the key with a sigh. 

Collecting her things, Clarke makes her way across campus to Lincoln’s apartment complex.

Clarke is pleasantly surprised when she opens the door to Lincoln’s apartment and isn’t greeted with piles of unwashed clothes and dirty dishes. After witnessing the state of Bellamy and Finn’s dorm room, as well as Monty and Jasper’s, she had half-assumed most boys simply enjoyed living in squalor.

Apparently, Lincoln does not share the same habits.

The apartment’s kitchen and living area is a bit larger than Clarke’s, presumably due to the one less bedroom, but the decoration is minimal. Whereas Clarke’s apartment is scattered with a mixture of her, Raven and Octavia’s favored forms of presentation, Lincoln’s is kept in a strictly plain state.

Curiosity gets the better of Clarke and she places her books down on the small dining table before inspecting the apartment.

A few identifying characteristics are scattered about the place, such as a dark patterned rug that’s folded over the couch, and a notably large bookcase next to the TV. But other than that, the fridge is the only place where Clarke finds any hints towards the personalities of the people that occupy the place.

Lincoln and his housemate both have their schedules stuck to the fridge, along with their food plans for the week. A magnet for their college’s track team is stuck to it, with a flyer for a hockey competition sitting a few inches away. Clarke can’t recall Lincoln ever mentioning the sport so she figures the flyer belongs to the roommate. Lexa, if she’s remembering correctly.

Seeing as Lincoln’s currently loved up with Octavia, Clarke’s going to assume that the girl with him in the one photo on the fridge is said roommate.

The pair are donned in their college colors, with ‘war paint’ streaked down their faces and exhausted, yet wide smiles on their lips. Clarke recognizes the banner in the background as that of the Fun Run held at their campus in their freshman year.

Said Fun Run that she and Raven had begrudgingly let Octavia drag them along to, only for their friend to speed off at the first whistle. Clarke and Raven didn’t survive long before they skipped out and headed for the nearest Chipotle, deciding a decent donation would make up for their inability to find the ‘fun’ in ‘run’.

Clarke decides she should probably start making the most of her time (after all, who knows when Lincoln and Octavia will decide on a change of setting), so she sets herself up at the dining table and attempts to find some form of motivation to study.

Don’t get her wrong; Clarke loves her course. Visual Arts is definitely a lot more entertaining than the idea of following in her mother’s footsteps and studying Medicine. But there is only so much fun a girl can get out of studying Art History, and when her other assignments involve actually _drawing_ (as in, the whole reason she came to this college)… yeah, Clarke’s will to commit to the subject is very lacking.

She manages to jot down the first sentence of her weekly review before Clarke is distracted by the view out of the window of the apartment. It’s not much, but it’s definitely a lot more interesting than her textbook.

A few students walk along the pathway, presumably either returning or on their way to class (or skipping, as Clarke believes Raven is almost definitely doing right now). A group of boys are messing around with a football down on the grass, and Clarke rolls her eyes when one sheds his shirt after spotting a group of girls approaching them. Apparently it works for him, however, as the girls come to a pause to watch the mini-game (or the bare chest) for a moment.

Clarke finds her sketchbook and is beginning to draw the pigeon that is perched on the tree outside when she hears a door open, a bag dropping to the floor loudly.

“Who are you?”

The voice is cool and collected, and when Clarke turns around, she’s surprised that it belongs to the girl from the picture on the fridge. Lexa is gripping a hockey stick, donned in shorts and a tight singlet, and skin coated in a layer of sweat from the unforgiving sun. Her brown hair sticks to her forehead, falling loose from the hair tie that holds it up, and her surprisingly intimidating gaze is trained right on Clarke. If she weren’t too busy being overwhelmed by the outright godlike appearance of the girl in front of her, Clarke might actually be kind of frightened right now.

“Um- I- sorry-” Clarke jumps up from her seat (maybe a little bit clumsily, as she realizes her eyes might have lingered a bit on the toned muscles of Lexa’s tattooed arms), “I’m Clarke.” She smiles awkwardly, “You must be Lexa.”

Lexa doesn’t look impressed by the answer, and Clarke’s certain that she’s gripping her hockey stick with the intention of attacking at some point soon.

“Clarke _who_?” she prods, her enunciation polished to a degree that Clarke actually finds it slightly enticing, if not completely threatening.

“Griffin.” Clarke answers dumbly, as though the reveal of her last name is supposed to _mean_ something to Lincoln’s roommate.

Lexa’s jaw tightens in growing irritation, and Clarke only squeaks out an explanation when she’s certain she is about to receive a hockey stick to the head.

“I thought Lincoln would’ve told you-” she blurts, and thankfully the other girl seems to relax a little bit at the name, “He said I could study here.”

“Lincoln. Right.” Lexa rolls her eyes, and she finally rests her hockey stick up against the wall as she lets out a sigh, kicking the door closed behind her, “And why exactly is my roommate offering our apartment out to strangers?”

“I’m not a stranger.”

“You’re a stranger to me.”

Clarke allows that, watching as the girl retrieves a bottle of water from the fridge, gulping down a generous amount, “I’m friends with Octavia…” she explains, “She’s dating Lincoln. Or- well- messing around with him. I’m not sure.”

“And that explains why you’re here because…”

“Oh- um… well I need to study.” Clarke says, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “I hate the library, and Octavia and Lincoln kept getting in my space, so Lincoln said I could hang out here instead. I guess he forgot to ask you first…”

“I guess he did.” Lexa clucks, placing the bottle down on the kitchen counter and eyeing Clarke with an unreadable expression. Her fingers drum against the surface lightly, silence falling between them.

“I’ll go.” Clarke decides, turning on her heel and beginning to pack up her things, “I honestly thought he would’ve told you. Otherwise I wouldn’t have just come over…”

She glances over her shoulder at Lexa who is continuing to watch her fuss about, “I’m really sorry.”

Clarke has finally shoved her books into her satchel when the other girl speaks.

“Stop.” She sighs in defeat, meeting Clarke’s eyes when the blonde turns around, “You can stay.”

Lexa looks almost as surprised as Clarke does when the allowance falls from her lips, frown still firmly in place.

“Are you sure?” Clarke asks, “I don’t mind going to the library.”

“You just said you hate the library.”

“Well, yeah but… this is your apartment.”

“Your observational skills are astounding.” Lexa responds dryly, capping her bottle of water, “Anyway, the way I see it, I either let you study here, or deal with Lincoln and Octavia’s obnoxious obsession with one another instead.”

A smile tugs at Clarke’s lips at the quip, “Okay.” She nods, “Well… I’ll try not to get in the way.”

“Please do.” Lexa says, retrieving her bag from the front door, “I study in my bedroom, so if you need anything just call out.”

The offer doesn’t sound very genuine, but Clarke appreciates that the girl’s at least attempting to seem cordial.

Clarke murmurs out a soft thanks, but Lexa has already escaped to the privacy of her room.

* * *

Clarke doesn’t see Lexa again that afternoon, but she calls out a goodbye when she decides to call it a day, surprised when she receives a muffled one in return. Clarke had been half hoping to see the girl again before she left, but apparently Lincoln’s roommate is very good at secluding herself.

She makes her way back across campus towards her apartment building, finding herself joined by Raven, who is returning from a shift at the auto shop in town. Raven’s covered in car grease, and slings an arm around her friend as she relays her latest triumph over one of her egotistical coworkers. Clarke doesn’t really understand why her friend bothers with her engineering degree, seeing as the girl’s passion is clearly in working as a mechanic. But she’s no stranger to parental pressure, so she doesn’t question Raven’s choices.

When the pair reach their apartment and Clarke swings the door open, they are greeted with the sight of Octavia once again attached to a shirtless Lincoln’s lips.

“You know two other people live here, right?” Clarke sighs, walking inside.

Raven scrunches her nose up teasingly at Octavia, “If I ever walk in on anything more than _this_ ,” she says, gesturing to the pair, “I might just have to blind myself. After sanitizing every surface in this place.”

Octavia at least has the decency to back away from her boyfriend (is he even her boyfriend yet?) upon the return of her best friends, looking over at them with an energetic expression.

“Hey, we would _never-”_

Clarke and Raven’s eyebrows rise as though it’s been rehearsed, knowing the claim their friend is about to make and ready to recall Octavia’s escapades with Lincoln on their armchair but a month ago. Seriously- Raven and Clarke still hadn’t dared sit on the chair since.

“- okay we would never _soberly_ ,” Octavia corrects herself, “Have sex outside of the bedroom.”

“ _So_ considerate.” Clarke rolls her eyes, fighting off a smile and walking between the couple on her way to the fridge, “Lincoln, do you own a shirt?”

Lincoln quickly manages to find his shirt, slipping it on, “Sorry,” he mumbles, “I’ll- uh… I’ll leave you guys to it.”

“You don’t have to go.” Clarke says, feeling slightly guilty for her teasing.

“You don’t need to put a shirt on, either.” Raven adds with a smirk.

Lincoln laughs, shaking his head, “It’s cool.” He says, “I’ve got track practice, anyway.”

“Oh, here.” Clarke calls, tossing the key to Lincoln’s apartment to the boy, “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Lincoln smiles, following Octavia to the door. The pair exchange a prolonged goodbye before he leaves, Raven offering Octavia a nod of approval once the door closes behind him.

“You know, if I was dating someone with a body like that, I’d be all over him too.” Raven comments reasonably, proceeding to fall onto the couch tiredly, “Clarke!” she mumbles demandingly, voice muffled by the cushions, “Food!”

Octavia giggles, slapping Raven’s ass as she passes, “Maybe shower first?”

Raven is silent for a moment before she repeats her demand, “FOOD.”

Octavia rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Clarke, who is rummaging through the fridge in search of _something_ that isn’t out-of-date.

“So, how was Lincoln’s?” she asks, perching on a stool on the opposite side of the counter and watching her friend.

“Fine.” Clarke mumbles, finally locating the last of the energy bars she’d hidden amongst her shelf. As much as she loves living with her friends, she does not enjoy their shared habit of eating whatever is available to them, ignoring any labels or previous claims one of them may have made on the food. Clarke had learnt very quickly where the best hiding spots were located within their kitchen, knowing not to trust her friends’ late night cravings.

“I _knew_ you hid those!” Octavia exclaims, momentarily distracted, “What ever happened to ‘sharing is caring’?”

“If I didn’t hide food in this apartment I’d starve.” Clarke drawls, “You and Raven’s appetites are worse than a teenage boy’s.”

“We’re growing!” Raven hollers from the couch.

“Well, feel free to stop any time.”

Octavia shoots Clarke a playful glare, resting her chin in her hands as she grins wickedly at her, “So, was Lexa there?”

Clarke chews on her snack, plucking an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and delivering it to Raven before returning to the kitchen.

“Yeah, she was there.” she nods, “Didn’t know _I_ was gonna be there. Which was awkward.”

Raven’s head appears over the couch then, the brunette holding the apple up with a pout, “Seriously? _Fruit?_ ”

“It’s all we have.” Clarke shrugs, “Get showered and we can go hunting.”

Raven lets out a dramatic huff, getting up from the couch and dragging herself towards the hallway where their bathroom resides. Her journey is cut short when her eyes find the energy bar in Clarke’s hand.

“So, what’d you think of her?” Octavia continues, eyeing Clarke curiously.

“Of Lexa?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you trying to hook Clarke up again?” Raven asks, quickly reaching over Clarke to tear off a piece of her snack, “Are we forgetting how badly it went last time?”

Clarke narrows her eyes at the significantly smaller amount of energy bar left, pouting before taking a bite.

“Hey, Katie was nice.”

Raven snorts, “Yeah, for a crazy bitch.”

“She wasn’t crazy…” Octavia argues weakly, “She was just… _passionate_.”

“O, she literally gave me a framed picture of herself after two weeks of dating.” Clarke drawls, pulling her snack out of Raven’s reach when the girl tries to tear off another piece.

“Ugh, whatever.” Octavia gives up, “Anyway, I’m not trying to set you up with _Lexa_.” She rolls her eyes, “I’m just curious about what you thought.”

“We talked for like two seconds.” Clarke shrugs, “She’s not the most social person in the world.”

“She’s hot though.” Octavia says, “Like, really hot.”

Clarke hums her agreement, finishing off her bar, “I won’t deny _that_.”

“Is she into girls?” Raven asks, “Not that I don’t rate Clarke’s ability to turn someone but… blondie _is_ out of practice.” She grins at the glare Clarke trains on her.

“I don’t know, actually.” Octavia frowns, tilting her head, “I mean, I’m not usually chatting with Lincoln’s roommate when I’m over at his.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Okay, end of conversation. You’re not playing matchmaker again. Let alone with Lincoln’s roommate. I’ve only just found a good place to study again.”

“Come on,” Octavia whines, “Please? You haven’t even dated anyone since you and Finn broke up.”

“Uh huh. _Finn._ Who you introduced me to. Who then proceeded to cheat on me.” Clarke deadpans, “Are you understanding _why_ I don’t want you playing matchmaker again yet?”

“She has a point.” Raven shrugs.

“Ugh, fine. No matchmaking.” Octavia huffs, “Now go have your damn shower so we can eat.”

Raven laughs, obeying the command and heading off down the hall, leaving Octavia eyeing Clarke with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Octavia shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips, “Just… you can’t deny it.” She grins, “Lexa’s totally your type.”

* * *

Clarke finds herself back in Lincoln’s apartment a few more times over the next two weeks, but she doesn’t have any additional awkward encounters with the boy’s roommate.

Lexa is quiet, and usually wears a frown when she eventually walks through the door, lost in her own world before she notices Clarke and nods in greeting. Clarke won’t admit to the shameful act, but she might have already memorized when Lexa has hockey practice. And she might have made sure on more than one occasion that her study time clashed with when the other girl would be returning, tight muscles and sweaty skin to bare in her exercise gear. Not that Clarke’s perving on Lexa. She’s just… okay maybe she’s being a little bit of a perve.

They don’t talk past basic greetings, Lexa always retreating to her bedroom shyly or promptly leaving again for whatever else she has planned on her schedule. It confuses Clarke, because usually she’d take any chance to procrastinate; even if it included conversing with a total stranger. And often when Lexa hovers in the kitchen, the brunette seems on the verge of starting conversation. Clarke waits, eyes on her work and pretending she isn’t highly aware of the other girl’s presence, but then she will eventually hear feet pad away and Lexa’s door shut softly. Clarke pretends she’s not disappointed every time.

When they do finally have their first conversation, it’s a late Wednesday morning. Clarke assumes the place to be unoccupied when she settles herself at the table, but twenty-minutes into working on her latest piece for her art journal, Lexa walks into the kitchen.

Clarke looks up and is greeted with the endearing image of Lexa in pajamas, with wild hair pointing in every possible direction. The other girl pauses when she notices Clarke at the table, but it only takes Lexa a beat to collect herself.

“Good morning, Clarke.” She greets formally, rubbing at her eyes and heading straight for the fridge. Clarke would be impressed by Lexa’s apparent coolness, if it weren’t for the very obvious blush that tints the hockey player’s cheeks over her attire.

“Morning.” Clarke hums back, pretending to be focused on her sketchpad and not on how cute the other girl looks half-awake, “Cute outfit.”

Lexa meets Clarke’s eyes with an embarrassed blush, “Thank you.” She mumbles.

“I thought athletes woke up early.”

Lexa retrieves a carton of milk from the fridge, green eyes finding Clarke with a hint of a smile when she turns back around to place it on the counter, “How do you know I’m an athlete?”

Clarke pauses at that, realizing that she really probably knows more about Lexa than their minimal conversations with one another would allow.

But, curiosity got the better of her, and Clarke may have done a little digging when Lincoln joined them for movie night the week earlier. In the process, she’d discovered that Lexa is on a similar scholarship to Lincoln’s, only for hockey.

“Just a guess.” Clarke answers innocently, pencil running along her page, “There’s the flyer on the fridge, as well…”

Lexa regards Clarke curiously before putting together a bowl of cereal, walking over to the table and taking the seat opposite the blonde.

Clarke’s surprised, having half-expected the girl to take her breakfast to her room. She arches an eyebrow when a hand reaches out to her sketches.

“Do you mind?” Lexa asks, pausing and waiting for Clarke’s permission.

Clarke nods, smiling softly and watching as Lexa slides it over to herself.

It’s a sketch of Bellamy that Clarke drew a few weeks ago while hanging out between classes with the boy. He was rested back against a tree, trademark charming smile on his lips as he plopped grapes into his mouth.

“You’re an artist?” Lexa queries softly, finger tracing over the drawing absently.

“It’s my major.” Clarke confirms.

Lexa hums out a response, sliding the sketch back over Clarke, “Lincoln’s an artist.”

“Really?”

The other girl nods, “I caught him drawing Octavia the other day.”

A soft smile traces Clarke’s lips at that, feeling comforted by the detail; a small confirmation that the boy’s not just another jock interested in Octavia for vapid reasons.

“You’re talkative, today.” Clarke says, a teasing smile on her lips as she watches the hockey player.

Lexa frowns, swallowing a mouthful of cereal, “I’d hardly call this talkative.”

“Well we’ve passed the usual ‘hi and bye’, so it’s definitely something.”

Lexa’s eyes narrow at Clarke momentarily. She itches her arm anxiously, drawing Clarke’s attention to her tattoo.

It’s almost tribal, and Clarke would be lying if she said the ink didn’t somehow make Lexa that much more appealing. After all, Clarke’s an artist. She can’t help but admire the intrinsic patterns detailed on Lexa’s skin (and maybe how they make her defined arms look even more polished). 

“You come here to study, don’t you?” Lexa says, “I figure you don’t want to be bothered.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Clarke answers, meeting cool green eyes with a shrug, “I’m always up for a decent distraction.”

Lexa regards her for a moment, eventually turning back to her breakfast with a small smile, “Okay.”

* * *

After that, Lexa starts hovering a bit more.

It begins with offering Clarke a cup of coffee whenever she ventures out of her room, and leads to Lexa simply sliding one into Clarke’s hands without prompt before she takes the seat opposite.

Lexa is a Political Science major, and takes her studies more seriously than Clarke could ever imagine herself doing. While Clarke huffs and puffs her way through her theory work, Lexa pumps out her latest essay without the bat of an eyelid.

Clarke pretends not to notice how often the other girl’s eyes drift to her own over the screen of her laptop. She also pretends to not notice how her stomach flutters a little whenever Lexa catches herself staring a little too long, the usually composed hockey player’s cheeks reddening as she immediately looks back to her screen.

It doesn’t take Clarke long to realize her new favorite hobby is trying to get Lexa’s lips tugging up into a smile. Which, not to mention, is getting increasingly easier as time goes by. Apparently, Lexa has a bit of a soft spot for Clarke. And judging by the dry way the girl treats Lincoln when he’s around, Clarke’s assuming Lexa’s not the cuddliest person out.

Well, that’s what she assumed up until she met the drunk version of Lexa. That is a whole other story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I keep writing Clexa and I figured I'd finally cave and post something. I'm not sure how long this will be but it'll probably be a short series, maybe 5 parts. Catch me over at pizzaoctavia on tumblr if you want! :)


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a Friday night, and after a particularly heavy week prepping for her upcoming showcase, Clarke is more than ready to drink cheap beer and pretend that her study commitments don’t exist.

She hasn’t visited Lincoln and Lexa’s apartment since last Thursday, having cooped herself up in one of the art studios in determination to master the painting she’s been working on. So when Octavia mentions that Lincoln and his friends are supposed to be attending the same party as them, Clarke gets a little bit more excited about the night ahead. After all, she’s never hung out with Lexa outside of the comforts of the other girl’s apartment; Clarke’s curious to see what ‘social Lexa’ looks like.

“So are you gonna make out with Lexa tonight?”

Clarke is standing with Monty in the kitchen of their apartment, mid-drink when she hears Raven’s teasing question, making her choke on her drink in response.

“ _Sorry?”_ she coughs out, wiping at the small amount of her drink that splashed onto her chin.

Raven smirks, taking a sip from her cup, “I _said_ , are you going to make out with Lexa tonight?”

“Oooh, who’s _Lexa_?” Jasper asks from where Octavia is attempting to help the boy tame his hair after declaring it her mission for the night to find their friend a girl.

Seeing as neither Raven, Octavia nor Clarke are too fond of the taste of beer, they’d decided it was a good idea to pre-game before the party at Bellamy and Finn’s frat. Now, Clarke is regretting that decision, much preferring to be able to escape Raven’s teasing amongst a crowd of drunk people.

“Clarke’s crush.” Octavia answers the boy, grinning over at her friend.

“I don’t have a crush on her!” Clarke protests, “We literally just study together.”

“Ah, I remember when Lincoln and I just ‘studied’.” Octavia sighs wistfully, emitting a laugh from Monty and Jasper, “Isn’t that how it all starts?”

“Don’t try to deny it, Griffin. You’ve got it bad.” Raven says, “Lincoln hasn’t even been _over_ here the last three times you’ve went to Lexa’s to ‘study’.”

“They have a nice view.” Clarke argues weakly, “It helps me when I’m sketching.”

“Oh I’m sure it does.” Octavia nods mockingly, “And when you say ‘nice view’, you’re talking about Lexa’s ass, right?”

Clarke groans, not crediting the quip with a response and downing the rest of her drink. _Why_ does she consider these assholes her best friends again?

* * *

When the group arrives at Bellamy and Finn’s frat, the party is well underway, with college students littering the front yard and crowding every room inside. Monty and Jasper are forced to pay $10 each upon entry, the girl’s being let in easy with a wink from the freshman at the door. Last year, Clarke and Raven had fought against the unfair rule, but after settling into life as poor students, they decided to give up on their acts of justice. Because hey, $10 can get you far; there’s no point spending money where you can avoid it. Also, Octavia could be crazy scary when her friends’ actions resulted in her having to spend $10 to get into a party, and neither girl found it worth the revenge plot Octavia always planned out in response. 

Raven, well practiced by now, immediately takes charge and links arms with Octavia and Clarke, barging them a path through the crowd and into the kitchen, Monty and Jasper close behind.

Clarke is feeling the buzz from their pre-gaming, and happily accepts the cup of beer that Octavia pours for her once they reach the keg. She can feel the music humming through her body and when her friends have all gotten themselves a drink, she happily allows Octavia to tug her to the dance floor.

They dance for a while, until the hot air on the dance floor mixed with growing intoxication gets too much and the trio decide to take a break. Clarke is giggling over something with Octavia as they follow Raven to the outside area where their friend intends on playing a round of beer pong.

Raven trips on her way out, her best friends catching her before she falls face-first onto the ground.

Clarke grips one arm, yanking the girl back to a balanced stand and laughing, “Are you sure you should be playing beer pong?” she grins, “You’re wasted.”

“ _Please_ , it’s _physics_ , princess. I got this in the bag.” Raven slurs, waving her hand in dismissal, “I’ll probably be sober by the end of it.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, not bothering to fight her friend on it and simply following Raven over to where the beer pong table is located. There is a crowd surrounding it, as usual, but what takes Clarke by surprise is the wild-haired brunette standing at one end, donning a victorious smile as her rival chugs a cup of beer opposite her.

“Hey, it’s Clarke’s _girlfriend_.” Octavia teases, elbow digging into the blonde’s side and making her friend squirm.

“Shut up.” Clarke grumbles, shoving Octavia off of her with red cheeks.

“You’re right. She _is_ hot.” Raven says, grinning, “Shame I’m about to kick her ass in front of everyone.”

When Lexa throws a Ping-Pong ball into the final cup on her opponent’s side of the table, Raven quickly pushes through the crowd, Octavia and Clarke following her.

“Hey! My turn next.” The mechanic declares, catching Lexa’s attention and winking at her.

Lexa’s eyes move to Clarke, the blonde coming to a stop in front of her with an embarrassed smile, “Go easy on her?” she requests, letting out a soft laugh, “I think chugging back more beer is about the last thing she needs right now.”

Lexa’s lips tug upwards, “I’m not a fan of losing.”

“Please?”

The hockey player rolls her eyes, letting out a sigh, “I’ll be kind.”

“Hey Hotshot!” Raven calls from the other end of the table, ball in hand, “Are we gonna do this thing or are you too busy flirting with princess?”

“Princess?”

Clarke doesn’t get to respond before a ping pong ball flies straight into one of the cups on Lexa’s side of the table, the two girls looking over to find Raven with a smug expression on her face.

Lexa’s brow furrows, attention turning back to Clarke, “I don’t think you should be too worried.”

* * *

Lexa puts up a good fight, but her practiced coordination isn’t a match for Raven’s brains, and the hockey player is downing her final cup twenty-minutes later. She walks away from the table with a flushed face and a firm frown, clearly surprised over being bested by Clarke’s friend.

“I don’t like her.” Lexa decides as she approaches Clarke, hand grabbing the blonde’s arm to steady herself.

Clarke grins, arching an eyebrow when the girl poorly stifles a burp, “You okay?”

“Yep.” Lexa croaks, covering her mouth as another burp forces its way out, “Just- need to sit down for a bit.”

Clarke decides her help is much more needed with Lexa than with Raven (who is beginning to take on her next victim in the drinking game) or with Octavia (who has long located Lincoln by now), so she helps Lexa back into the frat house and squeezes them a spot on one of the couches in-between other partygoers.

Lexa doesn’t speak for a while, watching the party around her with an almost child-like gaze. Her face is flushed from the alcohol, and Clarke notices the girl’s poor attempts at trying to calm herself.

When she does speak, the effect the beer has had on her is evident and Clarke can’t help but find amusement in the hockey player’s slower responses.

She’s watching something, a firm frown on her face when she turns to Clarke, “Your boyfriend’s flirting with my friend.” She comments, turning a glare back to where she was looking before.

“My boyfriend?” Clarke repeats in confusion, following Lexa’s gaze until she finds Bellamy flirting with a girl near the kitchen, “Wait- you mean _Bellamy_?”

Lexa’s frown turns to Clarke, “Yes.” She nods.

Clarke laughs, the alcohol in her system making the girl’s assumption only more entertaining, “Oh- _no_. No, never.” She shakes her head firmly, “We’re just friends. And he’s Octavia’s older brother so…” she chuckles, “Just no.”

“You drew him.” Lexa states, a cute pout on her lips.

“I draw a lot of people.” Clarke answers simply. Actually, her sketchpad is currently filled with a girl who looks an awful lot like the hockey player in front of her. “And he has pretty eyes.” She shrugs. It’s true, it’d be a crime _not_ to attempt to portray either of the Blake siblings on paper at least once in her life.

“Have you drawn me?”

Clarke arches an eyebrow, grinning when Lexa blushes, clearly having not planned on voicing the question. Oh, alcohol, how Clarke owes you.

The blonde shrugs, “You have pretty eyes too.” She says coyly, taking a sip from her drink.

Lexa seems to be wrapping her head around the response, relaying it to herself before a smile of drunken delight traces her lips, Clarke pretending that the reaction doesn’t make her whole body tingle with warmth.

“So he’s not your boyfriend?”

Clarke laughs, shaking her head, “No.”

Lexa grins, but quickly adjusts her expression to a less ecstatic one, clearing her throat, “Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Hm? Yes.” Lexa nods, brow furrowed, “I think I feel okay now.” She decides, getting up from the couch abruptly, “I’m- um… I’m gonna go find my team.”

Clarke attempts to not let her disappointment show, sending the hockey player a small smile, “Okay.” She says, “I should probably check on Raven, anyway.”

Lexa nods, offering an awkward wave before disappearing into the crowds.

Clarke eventually gets up from the couch and seeks out Raven, finding her friend still at the beer pong table. Her latest opponent seems to be a match for Raven, who only has two cups on left on her side of the table while the blond boy on the other side has three.

When Clarke joins Raven’s side her friend turns an annoyed expression to her, murmuring something about ‘Wick the Dick’ when the boy lands another ball into one of her final cups.

Clarke doesn’t see Lexa again until much later in the night, when the blonde is sat down on another couch with a pushy Finn at her side.

It’s not an out-of-the-ordinary conversation between them, with Finn reminiscing on their brief time as a couple as though it isn’t completely tainted by how it ended.

His relationship with the girl he cheated on Clarke with came to an end almost as quickly as it started. And Finn’s attentions soon turned back to his ex-girlfriend, and when she forgave him, he was convinced said forgiveness was a sign that there was still hope for rekindling their relationship. When in reality Clarke had just gotten tired of letting her anger at Finn cause a rift amongst their friends.

No, Clarke’s feelings for Finn died the moment Octavia brought him bloody-nosed to her dorm late on a Saturday night and forced a confession of his cheating out of him.

Finn’s in the middle of one of his reminiscent stories when he loses Clarke’s attention to Lexa, who is forcing her way through the crowd before she spots Clarke and runs over.

“Clarke!” Lexa hisses as she approaches, eyes wide and hair wild from the night of partying.

Finn sends Clarke a questioning look as his friend straightens up, beaming over at the approaching girl, “What’s up?”

“Hide me!”

Clarke doesn’t even have time to register the movement before Lexa has dove behind the couch, hitting the floor hard before quickly composing herself and shifting to her knees.

The blonde laughs as Lexa pops up behind her, chin resting between Finn and Clarke’s heads, “Is everything okay?”

Lexa’s green eyes stop scanning the room for a moment to glance at Clarke, “No.” she mumbles, sounding like a child, “Anya’s trying to find me.”

“Your friend?” Clarke guesses, turning to face Lexa only to find their faces barely an inch apart, the artist quickly snapping her head forward again with warm cheeks, “Why’re you hiding from her?”

“I’ve decided she’s no longer my friend.” Lexa whispers, looking to Finn with a frown, “Who’re you?” she asks almost accusingly (okay, very accusingly).

Finn laughs, “Nice to meet you, too.” He grins, “I’m Finn.”

The boy sits up slightly to offer a hand to Lexa, who simply stares at it with narrowed eyes in return. Clarke bites back an amused laugh at Lexa’s hard gaze (which for some reason only looks completely adorable on her).

“Lexa,” Clarke grins as the other girl nuzzles into the crook of her neck, “How much have you had to drink?”

Lexa hums, breath hitting Clark’s neck as she lets out a sigh, “Lots.”

“And how much is ‘lots’?”

“Numbers have no meaning, Clarke.”

“Lexa!”

The hockey player pulls away from Clarke in alert, eyes widening as she spots Anya storming over.

“Someone’s in trouble.” Clarke sings.

“Lexa’s not available right now.” Lexa mumbles when Anya reaches them, burying her face in Clarke’s hair.

Anya glares at her friend impatiently, “Lexa, it’s time to go.”

“No!” Lexa protests, “I’m having fun.”

“Come _on_ , Nina’s been vomiting for the last thirty-minutes. We need to take her home.”

“She’s not my responsibility,” Lexa mumbles, eyes turning to Clarke with a fond smile, “You’re really pretty.”

Anya looks to the blonde, “Let me guess. Clarke?”

Clarke’s cheeks warm, “That’d be me.” She nods, offering a confused smile.

The other girl rolls her eyes, “Of course.” She mutters, “Lex, if you don’t come with me now I’m leaving you behind.”

“Do it, I dare you.” Lexa challenges stubbornly, squinting at Anya, “I don’t need a babysitter!”

“I can take her home.” Clarke offers, feeling bad for Lexa’s annoyed friend, “I don’t mind.”

Anya looks reluctant, but at the call of two girls waiting at the door, she lets out a defeated sigh, “Fine.” She says, “Just don’t let her drink anything else, okay? We have a late practice tomorrow and hungover Lexa is the definition of hell.”

Lexa scoffs, focused on braiding a section of Clarke’s hair lazily, “I’m a delight.”

Clarke grins, looking back to Anya, “No more drinks. Got it.”

* * *

Lexa wedges herself in-between Finn and Clarke and sends the boy suspicious looks every time he attempts to contribute to the conversation (which is really just Lexa mumbling about things while Clarke grins at her in adoration). Soon enough Lexa is dozing off on Clarke’s shoulder and Clarke figures it’s time to leave, receiving a surprisingly easy agreement from Lexa when she suggests they walk home.

Finn attempts to come along, but a sharp glare from Lexa and he’s retracting his offer, managing to get a hug from Clarke when he bids them goodbye.

Lexa leans on Clarke for support as she stumbles along campus with the girl, and when she almost falls flat on her face Clarke wraps an arm around her waist and takes most of Lexa’s weight.

“For someone so coordinated, you don’t take to alcohol very well.” Clarke remarks, moving Lexa’s arm over her shoulder.

“I don’t like Finn.” Lexa states boldly, ignoring the comment.

Clarke laughs loudly, “You don’t _know_ Finn.” She grins.

“I don’t _wanna_ know Finn.” The hockey player grumbles, “I don’t like his hair.”

“You don’t like his hair?”

“It’s stupid.”

Clarke looks at Lexa, eyes shining in amusement, “Okay, Lexa.” She rolls her eyes, managing to keep Lexa upright when the girl stumbles again. “You know, I thought athletes were supposed to be graceful.”

“I’m graceful.” Lexa pouts, “I’m on a sports scholarship!”

“I’m aware.”

“Is _Finn_ on a sports scholarship?”

Clarke grins, shaking her head, “No, Finn is not on a sports scholarship, Lexa.”

“Hm.” Lexa clucks, face pressed to Clarke’s side, “Interesting.”

The conversation continues like this until they reach Lexa’s apartment, Lexa spending ten minutes attempting to fit her key in the door and failing miserably. Clarke plucks it out of her hands eventually, laughing at Lexa’s complaints (“Clarke Griffin I am an athlete! I can get a key into a damn door!”).

When the door swings open Lexa huffs out indignantly, wondering inside and heading straight for the couch. She falls onto the cushions with a grunt, mumbling out something that Clarke has no hope of understanding as she follows the hockey player.

“Did you say something?”

Lexa grumbles against the cushions again, waving a hand back to Clarke.

“Okay,” Clarke laughs, walking over and tapping Lexa’s hip lightly, “Time for bed.”

“I’m comfy here.”

“You’ll be comfier in bed.”

Lexa huffs, rolling over onto her back and glaring up at Clarke, “You’re not my mother.”

“Thank god for that.” Clarke quips, unable to help the amused smile that tugs at her lips, “Come on, Lexa.” She grins, holding her hand out, “Please?”

Lexa looks at the outstretched hand stubbornly for a moment before she gives in with a sigh, taking Clarke’s hand and allowing the other girl to pull her up from the couch.

It’s an effort, but Clarke eventually manages to get Lexa into her bedroom, the hockey player promptly falling onto her bed.

She watches in amusement as Lexa drunkenly rids herself of her shoes, lobbing them across the room. Lexa doesn’t seem bothered with undressing after the struggles with her shoes, falling onto her back with a groan.

“I’m dizzy.” Lexa remarks, looking up at the ceiling.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Clarke smiles, perching down on the bed and placing the bottle of water she’d retrieved on their way to the room down on Lexa’s bedside table. “Do you think you’ll be okay now?”

The other girl frowns, sitting up and regarding Clarke with what is supposed to be a serious expression, “If I say yes does that mean you’ll leave?”

“Possibly.”

A drunken smile tugs at Lexa’s lips, “Then no.” she answers, grinning and falling back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh.

Clarke rolls her eyes, watching the hockey player for a few moments before Lexa peers back over at her.

“Clarke.” She states, her attempt to articulate the blonde’s name foiled by the drunken drawl to her voice.

The girl in question chuckles, “Yes?”

Lexa’s eyes narrow for a moment, “If I were too…” she waves her hand vaguely in the air, “Ask you to cuddle.” She squints, the words falling lazily from her mouth, “Would you make fun of me for it tomorrow?”

“You want to cuddle?”

Lexa pouts at Clarke’s amused tone, “Well if you’re gonna laugh at me, I take it back.” She grumbles, rolling over so her back faces Clarke.

Clarke laughs louder, “No, I’m sorry.” She grins, poking at Lexa’s back, “We can cuddle.”

“Nope, the moment has passed.” Lexa argues over her shoulder, “I don’t believe in second chances.”

“God, you’re so difficult.” Clarke rolls her eyes, kicking off her shoes before sliding underneath the sheets.

“No!” Lexa protests childishly as Clarke settles behind her, “You had your chance-”

“Will you just shut up and let me cuddle you?” Clarke bites, arms wrapping around Lexa’s middle and pulling the hockey player into her. Lexa feels stiff at first, but as Clarke rests her chin on the girl’s shoulder, she relaxes into the embrace.

“I’m not used to being the little spoon, Clarke.”

“Deal with it.” Clarke huffs, “You’re drunk; you don’t get to be picky right now.”

Clarke brushes brown curls over Lexa’s shoulder baring the back of the girl’s neck to her. She frowns when she notices the details of a dark tattoo creeping up the back of Lexa’s shirt, no doubt just the beginning of whatever intrinsic artwork continues down her spine. Clarke has to stop herself from pressing a kiss to the tattoo, instead choosing to bury her head in the crook of Lexa’s neck and inhaling the mixed scent of coconut shampoo and vodka.

“Where did you get _vodka_?” Clarke asks once she’s unscrambled her brain from the general realization of just how close to Lexa she is right now. 

Lexa grunts in response, “Well I wasn’t about to drink any more cheap frat beer.” She slurs, shuffling back further into Clarke.

“That might explain how you got this drunk.”

“Hm.” Lexa huffs, her fingers stroking along Clarke’s forearms as a silence settles over them.

Clarke wonders if she could get away with staying the night, or if it would be a better decision to make an escape once the hockey player passes out. She’s sure Lexa will be embarrassed in the morning. And Clarke’s not sure whether her affections for the girl are clouding her judgment over whether their cuddling is crossing some form of a line right now.

“Clarke?” Lexa murmurs, breaking the blonde out of her racing thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“About Finn.” Lexa says, fingers pausing against Clarke’s skin, “Are you two… together?”

A smile tugs at Clarke’s lips, “You know, you seem to care a lot about who I’m dating.”

“No I don’t.”

“The constant questions kinda say something else.” Clarke grins, rolling her eyes when Lexa digs her nails into her forearm in warning, “No, we’re not together. We used to be, though.” She admits quietly, “Things didn’t work out too well.”

Lexa is silent for a moment before she rolls over to face Clarke, making the blonde jump slightly at the bare inch between their faces, “What happened?”

Clarke shrugs, “He got drunk, cheated… fell for the girl he cheated with.” She sighs, “Honestly, other people had much worse experiences with their first college relationships. I don’t let it get to me too much.”

Lexa doesn’t look impressed, frowning, “And you’re still friends with him?”

“… yes.”

“Why?”

“Finn’s not a bad guy.” Clarke says, “He just… doesn’t know what he wants.”

“He’s a fool.” Lexa states boldly, “He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Sometimes you just have to forgive.” Clarke argues, “I spent a long time hating him. It’s nice to finally be able to salvage some kind of friendship.”

“He still has feelings for you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do.”

Clarke eyes Lexa, expelling a breath, “Well… that’s just something he’ll have to deal with.”

Lexa watches Clarke with an unreadable expression, brow creased softly, “Do _you_ still have feelings for him?” she asks eventually, green eyes looking almost vulnerable.

“No.” Clarke smiles, “Not like that. Not anymore.”

Lexa nods softly, her hand reaching up to Clarke’s face, brushing blonde locks behind her ear. Once her task is complete, her hand falls on her cheek, fingers tracing along soft skin.

“Lexa?”

“Yeah?” Lexa whispers back, still tracing Clarke’s features with a look of awe.

Clarke grins, giggling, “You’re staring.”

Lexa smiles at the sound of Clarke’s laugh, fingers dancing along the blonde’s jaw, “Heartbreak sucks.”

The statement takes Clarke by surprise, eyes squinting in question at Lexa’s soft expression, “I wouldn’t say he broke my heart…” she murmurs.

“Good. You deserve better.”

“What about you?” Clarke prompts quietly.

Lexa’s fingers still momentarily, “Have I had my heart broken?”

Clarke nods, and she regrets it when the confirmation of her question results in the loss of Lexa’s touch, the hockey player’s hand lowering back to the mattress.

“Something of the sorts.” Lexa mumbles.

Clarke doesn’t prompt further discussion, noticing the way Lexa’s mood has shifted. Instead, she shifts closer to the hockey player, content when Lexa’s arms wrap around her waist and pulls her further into her.

It’s probably too intimate for platonic friends, and Clarke’s sensibility is scolding her for taking advantage of Lexa’s drunken cuddly state, but even if she _did_ have the willpower to pull herself away, the way Lexa grips her tells Clarke that her attempts would be futile.

So she stays, waiting until Lexa’s breaths even and her hold slackens before Clarke makes her exit, figuring it would be kind of her to spare the girl the embarrassment she’ll no doubt be feeling in the morning.

Clarke falls asleep that night with the memory of Lexa’s touch burnt into her skin and carved in her bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback on the first chap! I'm glad you guys like the story! :) Hopefully you enjoyed this part, let me know what you thought! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke wakes the next day to the sound of her door creaking open, an exhausted Raven appearing behind it with a firm pout on her lips and two mugs in her hands.

“Morning, Princess.” She grumbles, making her way across the room and planting herself down in the spot Clarke frees up for her on the mattress, “I couldn’t make it out of the door, so you’re stuck with shitty coffee this morning.”

Clarke chuckles, wiping the sleep from her eyes as she moves to rest back against her headboard, accepting a mug from Raven, “Hungover?” she guesses.

“You have no idea.” Raven heaves, taking a sip of her coffee only to let out a childish whine, “Why does home-coffee have to taste like ass?”

Clarke sips from her own, scrunching up her nose at the less-than pleasant taste but taking another large gulp anyway, “Because we’re broke students.”

“I hate being poor.”

“Me too.”

“Octavia better get a great job when she graduates. With you ditching medicine for art, and me ending up in an autoshop, _someone’s_ gonna need to afford decent coffee for us all.”

“Amen.” Clarke nods, “Maybe she can get us one of those fancy espresso machines.”

Raven sighs wistfully, “Dream big, Princess.”

The blonde hums in amusement, sinking down further into her covers and looking over at the view outside her window (which has gone two months without a curtain, thanks to general laziness and repeat – being a poor student who wouldn’t be caught dead begging for money from her mother).

“So where were you when I got home last night?” Raven asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence, stretching out with a groan, “I was left all on my own while Octavia and Lincoln got frisky in the next room. Could’ve sworn you’d left the party before me.”

“I took Lexa home.” Clarke answers, voice slightly high and taking a sip from her coffee, waiting for the teasing to ensue.

“ _Oh._ ” Raven looks to Clarke, grinning wickedly, “Did you hook up?”

“You know I _can_ just be friends with someone, right? _We’re_ friends.” She says, pointing between them, “And I’ve never hooked up with you.”

“Only because I don’t swing that way.” Raven responds, waggling her eyebrows at her friend, “I’m sure you’d jump at the chance.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, if I were you. I’ve witnessed you after bad Mexican.”

Raven glares at the blonde, “You promised to never bring that up.”

Clarke shrugs, “You started it.” She sings.

“Fine.” Raven rolls her eyes, “So why did you take her home?”

“She drank a lot, and her friend had to leave without her so I offered my services.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you got back so late.” Raven remarks, “If you weren’t making out, what the hell were you doing?”

“Talking.” Clarke murmured, smiling fondly at the memory of a cuddly Lexa, “She was being really cute, actually. I’ve never seen her so affectionate.”

Raven is eyeing Clarke, and when the blonde notices the teasing look being sent her way the brunette lets out a laugh, “ _God_ , you’re gross.” Raven groans, “Here I am, hoping you’re finally gonna enter your slutty period and instead you’re all smitten over some hockey player.”

“I’m not ‘smitten’.” Clarke huffs, shaking her head, “And I don’t need a ‘slutty phase’.”

“Hey, I just want my best friend to get laid. It can be with the cute hockey player if you want.”

“Why’re you so obsessed with my sex life?”

“You haven’t been out with anyone since you kicked Finn’s ass to the curb.” Raven drawls, “You bit my head off for not capping the _toothpaste_ the other day. Even Monty suggested you were sexually frustrated, and I swear that kid is still a virgin.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, climbing out of bed.

“Hey- I’m not done. Where’re you going?” Raven complains, failing to catch her friend as she reaches out.

“I’m going to get real coffee and some bagels.” Clarke grumbles, “If you’re gonna annoy me all day with your hangover, I think I need to be well-fed.”

* * *

Clarke and Raven situate themselves for the day in front of the TV, Clarke happy to enjoy a break from her studies and Raven simply unable to study thanks to her alcohol-induced headache. Octavia eventually appears from her bedroom, saying goodbye to Lincoln before cuddling up with her friends on the couch.

Lexa finds her way into Clarke’s mind, and the blonde fidgets with her phone through a full episode of Lost before she caves and sends a text to the occupier of her thoughts.

**_Clarke:_ ** _And how are you feeling today, boozey?_

Clarke immediately second-guesses the text, hoping that Lexa credits her with a response and hasn’t decided to cut their friendship short in embarrassment for her affectionate actions the night before. Thankfully, her phone buzzes moments later, Clarke grinning and quickly opening the text.

**_Lexa:_ ** _I’m fairly certain this is what death feels like. I don’t know how I’ll get through practice later._

**_Clarke:_ ** _When’s practice?_

**_Lexa:_ ** _3 till 5. Anya is funneling water down both my and Nina’s throats as we speak._

**_Clarke:_ ** _Anya seems kind of intense_

**_Lexa:_ ** _Intense would be putting it lightly_

Clarke grins, ignoring the way Octavia nudges Raven when they notice their friend chuckling at her phone, the pair attempting to sneak glances at the screen.

She texts back and forth with Lexa for a while before the hockey player has to go to practice, leaving Clarke to her thoughts. She’s sketching something while she sits in front of the TV, Octavia passed out as she’s strewn over Raven.

Eventually Clarke realizes she’s drawing Lexa, wild haired and sleepy in her bed. Clarke snaps the book shut with a blush when she catches Raven peering over at the page curiously.

“I’m going for a walk.” Clarke declares, sitting up from the couch, “Wanna come?”

Raven looks at her like she’s crazy and Clarke takes that as her answer, shrugging and getting changed before leaving their apartment with her sketchbook in hand.

She wanders around campus aimlessly, eventually ending up near the sporting fields and spotting the hockey team practicing on one of them. Clarke can’t really help herself and she’s walking over to the field soon enough.

There’s forty-minutes left of Lexa’s practice, so Clarke takes a seat on the bleachers and decides to watch. The hangovers are evident in a number of Lexa’s teammates, but to her credit Lexa’s own doesn’t seem to show too much.

Although with the way Anya rolls her eyes at Lexa’s exhausted appearance after a drill, Clarke gathers that this usually comes a lot easier to her.

Clarke feels bad for the girl for a moment before she’s distracted by how downright attractive Lexa looks out on the field. She shouldn’t be surprised by Lexa’s talent (after all, they don’t give out scholarships to just anyone), but Clarke can’t help but be impressed (and kinda turned on) by how Lexa confidently moves about the pitch.

Clarke’s sketchbook goes completely ignored while she watches the team practice. Lexa notices her eventually, one of her teammates saying something to her before Lexa’s head turns to look over at Clarke. She offers an awkward wave, and Clarke can see the confused furrow of her brow before Lexa gets back to practice.

They finish off practice with a small game, splitting the team up between shirts and skins. When Lexa’s put into the skins team, Clarke decides stopping by was definitely not the worst idea she’s ever had.

Lexa pulls her shirt off, leaving herself in her sports bra. The tattoo Clarke spotted the beginnings of last night is on full-display now, and Clarke’s eyebrows rise in surprise at the intense artwork.

Unfortunately the friendly game comes to an end all too soon and Lexa’s shirt is on once again, leaving Clarke with the image of Lexa’s sweaty, toned body burned into her mind. Clarke at least has the decency to blush when she realizes she’s been leering at the girl all afternoon.

While her team heads to the changing rooms Lexa makes her way over to Clarke.

“Hey,” Clarke smiles when Lexa comes to a stop at the bottom of the bleachers looking up at Clarke with a confused expression, “How’s the hangover?”

“Terrible.” Lexa shrugs, “But I think the workout has helped.”

“That’s good.”

Lexa nods, leaning on her hockey stick as an awkward silence settles over them.

“I was on a walk and saw you guys…” Clarke says, feeling the need to explain her presence at Lexa’s practice, “I got curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yeah.” Clarke says, “Usually you have to be pretty talented to get a sports scholarship.”

A hint of a smile tugs at Lexa’s lips, “Did I live up to expectations?”

Clarke grins, rolling her eyes, “Maybe.”

Lexa smiles now. Like, an _actual,_ wide, toothy smile. Clarke almost falls off of the bleachers in shock.

“I have to shower and everything.” Lexa says eventually, pointing back to the locker room, “But I’ll see you around?”

Clarke nods, but only lets Lexa walk a few feet away before she calls out the hockey player’s name again, making Lexa turn back around.

“Are you hungry?” Clarke asks, hopping down the bleachers to walk over to Lexa.

Lexa’s brow is furrowed again, “I guess.”

Clarke smiles, “Great, well, I think my roommates and I are getting takeout, if you want to join.” She says, fingers running along the spine of her sketchbook anxiously, “We usually order enough for a small army.”

Clarke cringes at how hopeful she sounds, but the fact that Lexa’s frown has dissipated makes her feel a little more confident.

“I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“No.” Clarke shakes her head firmly (maybe a little too firmly), “I’m pretty sure Lincoln will be coming over again, anyway. If he hasn’t already.”

Lexa ponders for a moment before she nods, “Okay.” She says, smiling softly, “Sure.”

* * *

Lexa showers and changes before meeting Clarke back at the bleachers, bag slung over her shoulder and smiling in greeting as they begin the walk to Clarke’s apartment building.

“I’m really sorry about last night.” Lexa starts after a few moments, “You shouldn’t have had to take care of me.”

Clarke laughs, “It’s fine, I offered.”

“I don’t usually drink that much.”

“Well, I don’t think you were expecting Raven to be _that_ good at beer pong.” Clarke says, grinning, “I think that was probably when things started going downhill for you.”

“Did I do anything very embarrassing?” Lexa asks, looking unsettled by the thought of what she could be forgetting.

“Not really.” Clarke shrugs, “You were kinda a dick to my ex, but that was more funny than anything else.”

Lexa cringes, “Oh, yeah.” She mumbles, “Well, I’m sorry. Apparently when I’m intoxicated all maturity goes out of the window.”

“It’s okay.” Clarke grins, “It thought it was cute.”

Lexa’s cheeks redden, which makes Clarke smile even more.

“Don’t worry.” She says, “Next time I’m drunk I’ll let you return the favor.”

“Sure.” Lexa agrees softly.

While Lexa’s a woman of few words, conversation comes surprisingly easy between the pair, and Clarke quizzes the girl on her scholarship the rest of the walk to her apartment.

When they walk inside, Octavia and Raven are sat on the couch (Clarke’s fairly certain they haven’t moved since she left), and the girls’ heads snap up eagerly at the sound of company. Clarke’s fairly certain Lexa takes a hesitant step back at the quick movement.

“Oh.” Raven’s face falls when her eyes fall on Clarke and Lexa and she lets out a dramatic sigh, “False alarm.”

Octavia groans, falling back onto the couch with Raven.

“Don’t look too excited to see us.” Clarke says as she walks further into the apartment, Lexa following.

“Lincoln’s supposed to be bringing food.” Raven grumbles.

“Cool. Lexa’s here for dinner.”

“Hi, Lexa.” Octavia greets, hand popping up in a half-hearted wave.

“Hey…” Lexa greets awkwardly, setting her bag down.

Raven manages to sit up (with a struggled huff in the process), peering over the couch at Lexa, “How’re _you_ feeling today?” she asks, smirking, “I heard Princess had to walk your drunk ass home last night.”

Lexa looks to Clarke briefly at the nickname before turning back to Raven, “I’ve been better.”

Before Raven can respond Lincoln is walking through the door and her attention is ripped away from Lexa.

“Food’s here!” Lincoln declares, his gaze falling on Lexa and frowning, “Lex?”

“She’s here for dinner.” Octavia mutters out as she shoves Raven off of her and makes a beeline for where Lincoln is placing the food down. Raven follows close behind, pushing Octavia out of the way in annoyance and opening up the numerous boxes of pizza.

Lexa shrugs at Lincoln and the pair’s attention turns to Octavia and Raven, who are divvying up the pizza between boxes like they haven’t eaten in years.

Once they’ve claimed their selection they head back to the couch, Lexa looking to Clarke unsurely.

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Well now that the pigeons have their food.” She starts receiving the finger from Raven over the couch in return, “What kind of pizza do you like?”

Clarke, Lexa and Lincoln divvy up the rest of the pizza in a much more civilized manner, eventually joining the other two students on the couches. Lincoln settles down on the larger couch with Octavia and Raven, leaving Clarke and Lexa with the two-seater.

Octavia puts on some comedy Clarke can’t remember the name of and the tone of the night is fairly casual. Lexa sits ramrod straight next to Clarke on the smaller couch, looking like she’s ready to sprint at any second. When Clarke grows tired of sitting so proper on the furniture, she makes a show of fidgeting next to Lexa.

Lexa notices, green eyes glancing anxiously over to Clarke briefly before training back on the TV screen.

The blonde next to her huffs; giving up on subtlety and shifting to lie down on the couch, lifting Lexa’s hands up from her lap before resting her head there. She frowns when Lexa’s hands remain frozen, hovering over her head as she looks down at Clarke stiffly.

“Relax, I’m not proposing to you.” Clarke mumbles, turning her head to look up at Lexa, “We passed the cuddling stage in this friendship last night.” 

She catches the tint to Lexa’s cheeks at that, and the hockey player seems to give in, lowering her hands and accepting that Clarke won’t be moving again. Clarke soon feels fingers brushing through her hair absentmindedly and she decides that she should push Lexa to cuddle more often.

* * *

They’re into the second movie when Octavia and Raven finally pass out; Octavia sprawled over Lincoln, with Raven sprawled over her. Lincoln (winning over brownie points of approval from Clarke) carries Raven to her room before he takes Octavia to hers.

“I’m gonna crash too.” Lincoln says when he reappears, looking to Lexa, “Octavia and I are studying together tomorrow, so… I figured I’d stay here.”

Clarke smirks, sitting up from Lexa’s lap to look over at Lincoln, “Sure, _that’s_ the reason.”

Lincoln chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “Yeah, well…” he looks to Lexa, “Did you want me to walk you home first?”

“It’s okay, I can make my own way.” Lexa answers, receiving a shrug from Lincoln who heads back down the hall towards Octavia’s room.

Clarke grins at Lexa when the girl looks back to her.

“What?” Lexa frowns.

“ _You_ don’t want to leave.” She says, “You’re enjoying my company.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the TV, “Maybe I just want to finish this movie.”

“No.” Clarke persists, lying back down on Lexa once more, “You just like me.”

* * *

Clarke’s not sure when, but at some point later in the night she ends up passed out in Lexa’s lap, the TV series they’d moved onto long forgotten in the background.

Lexa must have also fallen asleep, because when Clarke’s rudely awoken at some time past midnight, it’s due to Lexa’s legs jolting up.

A groan falls from Clarke’s lips as she rubs at her eyes, looking up at Lexa who looks equally tired, “What’re you doing?”

Lexa stops her wide-eyed surveillance of her surroundings to meet Clarke’s eyes, brow furrowed, “I fell asleep.” She mumbles.

“Me too. I was having a great dream as well.” Clarke says, matching Lexa’s frown playfully, “Before you went and woke me up.”

“I should go home.” Lexa says, coaxing Clarke to get off of her.

Unfortunately for Lexa, Clarke doesn’t budge, letting out another groan and wrapping her arms around Lexa’s waist to keep her in place.

“No, you’re warm.”

“Clarke.” Lexa huffs, pulling at Clarke’s hold (half-heartedly, Clarke notes), “I need to go sleep.”

“Sleep _here._ ” Clarke mumbles, “It’s too late to walk home; you’ll get mugged.”

“I’m fairly capable of handling myself.”

“That’s what everyone says. And then they get mugged.”

“I think you seriously overestimate the dangers of our campus.”

“I think you seriously overestimate your ability to fend for yourself.” Clarke swipes back, mimicking Lexa’s tone, “Just stay here.”

Lexa looks reluctant, but she nods weakly anyway, “Okay.” She murmurs, “I’ll sleep on the couch though.”

“You’re an actual idiot.” Clarke rolls her eyes, getting up from the couch and grabbing Lexa’s hand, hauling the hockey player up forcefully, “Quit acting like you weren’t asking me to cuddle you _just_ last night.”

Lexa allows Clarke to tug her along, albeit with an unsure expression on her face as she does so. When they reach Clarke’s room Clarke provides Lexa with some clothes to wear to bed and the pair get changed before settling in for the night.

Lexa lies stiff as a board next to Clarke, and Clarke decides not to push, seeing as getting Lexa in the bed in the first place was hard enough.

She’s just about to doze off some time later when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her, Lexa seeking out Clarke’s warmth in her slumber. Lexa’s breaths are even, and she buries her face in the crook of Clarke’s neck.

Clarke might just fall asleep with a smile on her lips.

* * *

When Clarke wakes the next morning, she’s still in Lexa’s arms, and she doesn’t make an effort to move just yet; only rolling over when she eventually feels the girl stir behind her.

Lexa looks confused for a moment, arms not yet withdrawn from Clarke’s waist as she peers around the room and manages to place herself.

“Morning.” Clarke greets softly.

Lexa seems to find her bearings when Clarke’s voice reaches her ears, shifting back a bit and rolling over onto her back to put some space between them.

“Good morning, Clarke.” She mumbles back, voice husky and rubbing at her eyes, “What time is it?”

“Dunno.” Clarke shrugs, eyes focused on the tattoo on Lexa’s arm, taking advantage of the rare up-close look at the piece of work, “Do you have anywhere to be today?”

“Just practice later.”

Clarke hums out a response absentmindedly, resisting the urge to trace Lexa’s tattoo.

“Thank you for letting me stay over.” Lexa says, looking to Clarke, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem.”

Lexa frowns at Clarke’s vacant expression, “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” Clarke snaps out of her daze, tearing her eyes from Lexa’s tattoo, “Oh- I was just thinking about something.” She murmurs.

“Thinking about what?”

Clarke reaches out, fingers tracing over Lexa’s tattoo and making the girl jump slightly, “Your tattoos, actually.” she admits softly, “I saw the one on your back when you were playing yesterday.”

A smile tugs at Lexa’s lips, “Did you enjoy the view?”

“You took your shirt off in a public place.” Clarke drawls, “I’m not the only one who had a look.”

Lexa chuckles softly, rolling over to face Clarke, “So what were you thinking about my tattoos?”

The other girl shrugs, fingers continuing the explore the pattern running along Lexa’s upper arm, “I don’t know. They’re interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah. Very… artsy. All the symbols.” Clarke elaborates, letting out a sigh, “Do they have any meaning?”

“Yes.” Lexa nods, “They mean things to me.”

“Things that you’re probably not going to explain to me, right?” Clarke chuckles, recognizing the closed-off expression on Lexa’s face.

Lexa smiles, shrugging, “Probably not.”

The blonde nods in understanding, not bothering to push, “Did you design them?”

“There’s a reason I’ve never attempted to draw around you, Clarke.”

“So who designed them?”

“Different people.” Lexa murmurs, “Lincoln designed a few. Do you have any?”

Clarke grins, shaking her head, “No. I’ve always wanted one but…” she shrugs, “I think I’ve pissed off my mum enough _without_ adding ‘tattoos’ to the list.”

“Maybe one day.”

“Maybe.” Clarke agrees quietly.

A silence falls over them, Clarke focused on Lexa’s tattoo and Lexa watching with an amused smile.

“Can I see your other ones?” Clarke asks eventually, “Your back tattoos?”

Lexa’s mouth hangs open for a moment, frowning unsurely, “Um… I’m not- I’m not sure that would be appropriate.”

“I’m not trying to get you naked.” Clarke chuckles, “I’m just curious.”

Lexa doesn’t respond immediately, Clarke able to practically see the gears in her head turning before she speaks.

“Fine.”

“Wait- really?” Clarke’s eyebrows rise in surprise as Lexa sits up.

“Yes.” Lexa nods softly, turning so her back faces Clarke.

When Lexa pulls the back of her shirt up to her neck, Clarke considers that maybe this request wasn’t such a great idea after all. She never realized just how attractive a bare, tattooed back could be.

“Are you done?” Lexa asks, breaking Clarke out of her ogling.

“Um- no.” Clarke shakes her head (voice maybe a little bit too rushed) and sits up, edging closer to Lexa.

When her fingers find the symbols inked in black that run down Lexa’s spine, Clarke feels the other girl jump slightly at the contact. Lexa doesn’t pull away, though, remaining in place for Clarke to explore the ink.

She attempts to focus on the tattoos and not how smooth and warm Lexa’s naked skin feels against her own.

“These must’ve hurt like a bitch.” She murmurs, attention turning to the black, flame-like patterns on Lexa’s shoulder blades.

Lexa’s back shakes as she chuckles, “It wasn’t too bad.”

“When did get your first one?”

“I was fifteen.” Lexa says, “Some kid at a party had a tattoo gun and I thought I was old enough to know if I wanted it there forever.”

“Were you?”

“The flames on my left shoulder now cover it.”

Clarke laughs, fingers finding said flames, “What was the tattoo of?”

“It was _very_ poorly drawn skull.” Lexa says, “It kind of looked more like a black blob.”

Clarke smiles, “I like the flames.” She says, “Who designed them?”

“Lincoln. I wanted something to frame the symbols.”

Clarke’s fingers find the various foreign script amongst the other tattoos, eventually returning to the symbols running down Lexa’s spine,  “And who designed the symbols?”

Lexa pauses, “Just… someone.”

“An ex?”

“Something like that.”

“You know, you don’t open up too much.” Clarke remarks.

“You have me almost topless right now, Clarke.” Lexa quips back, “I’d say that’s fairly open. “

“You know what I meant.” Clarke chuckles, rolling her eyes, “So what was the first planned tattoo, then?” she asks, figuring prodding Lexa for details about the mystery designer would be useless.  

Much to Clarke’s dismay, Lexa lowers her shirt, turning back around.

“It’s um, this one.” Lexa murmurs, lifting her shirt again to show Clarke the large, circular tattoo that sits on her hip.

It’s a similar tribal style to Lexa’s other tattoos, only the ink forms the shape of an animal.

“A phoenix?” Clarke queries, looking closer at the intricate design. She goes to touch it only to pull her hand back, noting Lexa’s red cheeks when she does so.

“I liked the idea of rebirth.” Lexa explains, “Rising from the ashes…” she shrugs, “It was the summer before my first year of college. I was feeling metaphorical.”

“I like it.” Clarke says, meeting Lexa’s gaze when the hockey player hides the tattoo once more, “Do you think you’ll get any more?”

“I think so.”

“Well if you need a designer…” Clarke trails off playfully, “I’m a pretty great artist.”

A smile tugs at Lexa’s lips, “I’m aware.”

Clarke thinks she see’s Lexa glance at her mouth briefly; swears that the silence that falls between them is filled with a bit more than what exists between ‘just friends’.

But then the loud voices of Raven and Octavia carry down the hall and whatever thoughts Lexa was having are cut short, the hockey player straightening up.

“I should get home.” She says, her mind already made up and climbing off of the bed.

Clarke watches Lexa, frowning, “I thought you didn’t have anything on today?”

“I need to study.”

“Oh. Okay.” Clarke murmurs, “You didn’t want to stay for breakfast?”

Lexa picks up her clothes, “No, it’s okay.” She says, turning back to Clarke, “Where’s the bathroom?”

Clarke takes a beat before responding, “Down the hall, last door on the right.”

“Thanks.”

Lexa’s out the door in the next second, leaving Clarke completely and utterly confused over what just occurred.

She eventually makes her way out of her bedroom and towards the kitchen, finding Octavia and Raven smirking at her when she walks in.

“Did I just see Lexa creep out of your bedroom?” Octavia asks, waggling her eyebrows at Clarke.

“She just slept over.” Clarke brushes it off, shaking her head and perching at the counter.

“Oh, she ‘slept over’?” Raven repeats suggestively.

“No. She slept. Over.” Clarke says, “Two people. Sleeping. That’s it.”

Octavia frowns, “What’s gotten _you_ in such a bad mood?”

It’s at that moment that Lexa comes walking into the kitchen, stopping briefly to regard the trio.

“Thanks for last night.” She says, looking to Clarke only to quickly divert her gaze and head for the door out of the apartment.

When the door closes behind her, Raven and Octavia turn to Clarke with confused expressions.

“Well _that_ was weirdly awkward.” Raven blurts eventually, “What’d you do?”

Clarke buries her face in her hands, letting out a groan, “I have absolutely no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to anyone who left kudos on the last chapter! And a BIG thank you to anyone who left a comment! They were really lovely to receive and I like hearing from you guys so yeah :3  
> Anyway, I’m still in the middle of assessment but I’ll try to get the next part out as soon as I can :) let me know what you thought of this one!


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke sends Lexa a text later in the day asking how her study is going (even though Clarke’s fairly certain that was just an excuse for an escape), and her message goes unanswered. She tells herself that Lexa’s probably just busy and maybe she’s just reading too much into the abrupt exit, but then Lincoln comes over and says Lexa’s been lazing around on the couch all day and well… that’s not very encouraging.

When Clarke shows up to Lexa’s to study on Monday Lexa is nowhere to be seen, either locked away in her bedroom or out doing whatever it is the hockey player does when she isn’t practicing. She’s fairly certain at this point that Lexa’s avoiding her, but Clarke holds onto a sliver of hope that she’s just thinking about everything too much.

But then she arrives at the apartment on Tuesday and almost barrels into Lexa, who is making a quick exit out of the door.

Lexa’s eyes widen when she picks up her hockey stick from the floor and finds Clarke in front of her. She has mumbled an apology and an excuse about being in a rush before Clarke even gets a word out, watching Lexa escape down the hallway.

Clarke doesn’t know why, but she persists in going to Lexa’s each day in hopes that maybe she’ll get a hello at the least at some point.

She doesn’t. And by Thursday Clarke’s temper gets the better of her and she’s storming down the hallway and opening up Lexa’s door.

Lexa startles at the sudden intrusion, but her eyes only leave her laptop to fall on Clarke for a moment before returning back to the screen.

“Did I do something to offend you?” Clarke blurts, tone filled with annoyance and arms crossed in front of her stubbornly, “Because I swear you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

Lexa’s hand is hovering over the keyboard of her laptop, her eyes not leaving the screen, “I have an essay to work on, Clarke.”

“Good for you. Answer my question and I’ll leave you alone.”

Lexa takes a calculated breath and Clarke can see the irritated clench to the girl’s jaw, “No.” she clips, “You haven’t offended me.”

Clarke stares at Lexa for a moment, mouth hanging open and eyes growing angrier by the second.

“So what? You’re just naturally an ass?” she snaps.

Lexa _finally_ turns around in her chair at that, meeting Clarke’s gaze with a frown, “I don’t have time for this, Clarke.”

“Well make time, _Lexa_.” Clarke snaps back, mocking the other girl’s tone, “You can’t just ignore me for no reason and expect me to be okay with it. Call me delusional, but I thought we were kind of friends.”

“I haven’t been ignoring you-”

“ _Yes,_ you have.”

Lexa sighs, which only annoys Clarke even more.

“I’ve been busy.” Lexa says, turning back to her laptop, “I _am_ busy.”

Clarke watches Lexa for a moment, waiting for what? She’s not really sure. But whatever it is, Lexa doesn’t deliver.

“Fine. Whatever.” Clarke rolls her eyes, “Be an ass, see if I care.”

Lexa doesn’t respond and Clarke huffs, turning on her heel and shutting the door behind her as she leaves.

Lexa doesn’t follow her.

* * *

 

“Maybe she’s just straight.” Raven suggests from where she’s situated herself on Clarke’s bed, watching as her friend stands in front of her closet attempting to choose and outfit.

It’s a Friday, so naturally Raven has found somewhere for them to drink their bodyweight in alcohol and forget their mundane week of classes. Tonight’s selection is some grungy bar off campus that is known to accept any poorly constructed fake ID handed to them. They’ve populated the venue before and the nights have usually ended with them barely able to see straight. So, in light of her Lexa troubles, Clarke considers such a night _more_ than welcome.

“She’s definitely not straight.” Clarke says, brow furrowing, “I mean- I don’t think she is. I swear she was all over me at Bell’s party.”

“Maybe your bisexual allure just had her mesmerized for the night.” Raven teases, receiving a glare from Clarke in return.

“Well it’s not like I even made a move on her.” The blonde grumbles, plucking a dress out of her cupboard.

“Too nice.” Raven says, making Clarke return the dress to the closet.

Clarke settles on jeans, a blue top and a leather jacket. She huffs when she eventually pulls on her leather jacket, turning back to Raven who is typing away on her phone.

“I just don’t know what the hell her problem is.”

Raven shrugs, “Maybe she’s just a bitch. It happens.”

“She’s not a bitch.” Clarke answers, feeling slightly defensive, “She’s just…” she deflates, shaking her head, “I dunno.”

Raven glances up, chuckling at Clarke’s upset expression and climbing off the bed, “Aww look at you.” She pouts as she approaches, reaching out to squeeze Clarke’s cheek playfully, “My poor, lovesick puppy.”

“Stop it.” Clarke whines, swiping Raven’s hand away as her friend laughs.

“Alright, I’m gonna have a drink.” She says, slapping Clarke’s ass as she passes, “Hurry up. The sooner you’re ready the sooner you can be drunk and forget about the Ice Queen.”

* * *

 

Raven, Octavia and Clarke arrive at the bar to find their friends already there and getting the night underway. Bellamy is at the bar coaxing Monty to partake in shots while Jasper is making a poor attempt to flirt with a group of girls near the pool table, on which Lincoln and Finn are playing a game.

Octavia makes a beeline for Lincoln while Raven and Clarke head straight for the bar, Raven slapping a hand on Monty’s back when they reach the boys.

“Got one for me?” she grins, peering over Monty’s shoulder at the shot glasses, to which the boy happily nods and hands one over.

“Hey! This is _your_ challenge.” Bellamy protests, “You can’t give away your shots.”

Monty grins, watching as Raven swigs the shot back and Clarke swipes up one of the others on the bar, “Too late.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, catching the bartender’s attention and ordering another round before turning to the girls, “I’m trying to get Monty wasted.” He declares, a cheery smile on his face as he nudges the boy, “I’ve decided it’s about time we see his wild side.”

“Sounds like my kind of mission.” Raven grins, waggling her eyebrows mischievously at Monty while her friend looks back with an expression of pure fear.

“Is this all of us?” Clarke asks, ordering herself a drink once the bartender has finished pouring another line of shorts for each of them.

“Nah.” Bellamy shakes his head, “Sorry about Finn, though. Couldn’t leave him back with the guys.”

Clarke shrugs, “So long as he keeps the declarations of love to a minimum tonight, I’ll be fine.”

“Just another reason to get drunk off your ass.” Raven chimes in, pushing a shot each into Clarke and Monty’s hands.

The four friends swig their shots back, Clarke placing her glass down with a hiss as the liquid burns its way down her throat.

“So,” she coughs, “Who else is coming?”

Bellamy grins, “I have a _date”_

Raven snorts, “A date? _Here?”_ she says, “Way to go, Casanova.”

“Well- it’s not really a date.” Bellamy mumbles, cheeks reddening, “She’s just coming here with her friends as well. I did suggest it, though.”

Clarke laughs, “Who is she?”

“Remember my party last week?” Bellamy says, “She’s the girl I was talking to. Anya.”

Clarke’s smile vanishes at that, receiving a confused frown from her friend in return.

“What?” Bellamy laughs awkwardly, “Don’t tell me you’ve dated her or something.”

“I- uh- no.” Clarke shakes her head, “Do… do you know who she’s bringing?”

“It was hard enough convincing her to come here in the first place. I wasn’t about to ask any more questions.”

“Right.” Clarke mumbles, glancing over at the door anxiously.

As if on cue, it’s then that Anya comes walking into the bar, Lexa right at her side and a few of their teammates following.

And like that, Clarke’s night of forgetting about Lexa has flown right out of the window.

* * *

 

Clarke refrains from drinking heavily throughout the night, not wanting to have her guard down around an emotional Finn, and also wanting to keep her resolve when it comes to ignoring Lexa at any opportunity. Which isn’t very hard to do, seeing as Lexa keeps a respectful distance the majority of the time.

Some guy buys her a drink and in exchange Clarke dances with him, and when she catches Lexa watching her with an unhappy expression, she feels a small sense of satisfaction.

Because hey, if Lexa weren’t so damned immature, _she_ could be the one dancing with Clarke.

(Clarke tells herself she doesn’t care either way, though)

Clarke can feel Lexa’s eyes following her every move throughout the night, which only urges Clarke to keep her own gaze off the hockey player completely. She laughs obnoxiously at the jokes Octavia makes and hangs off of Raven like her friend is her life support, and she does her damn best to make sure Lexa knows that she’s having the best night _ever_.

It gets a bit harder to do that when Finn sets his sights on Clarke and delivers his regular apology speech, which almost has Clarke buying herself a line of shots to get through. But Clarke keeps a forced smile on her face and entertains the boy for as long as she can bear, because the way Lexa is watching them unhappily makes it a little bit worth it.

It’s not until later in the night when Lexa seems to gain the courage to approach Clarke.

The blonde is seated on one of the stools at the bar, sipping from her drink and watching on as Bellamy attempts to flirt with Anya while said girl kicks his ass in pool. Clarke sees Lexa approaching her out of the corner of her eye but she doesn’t acknowledge her, eyes remaining firmly ahead of her.

She ignores Lexa’s presence while the girl stands there waiting for Clarke to at least acknowledge her, and she soon hears Lexa clear her throat.

“Hey,” Lexa greets awkwardly.

Clarke looks to Lexa then, finding the hockey player attempting a smile that comes off more like a grimace. She eyes Lexa for a moment before the stubborn child inside of her wins out and she turns her attention back to her drink without response. She knows it’s immature, but hey, Lexa hurt her feelings. And Clarke’s kind of buzzed and hot hockey players who hurt her feelings kind of suck.

Clarke can sense Lexa watching her, no doubt waiting for some form of response, but Clarke simply continues to sip from her drink and ignore the girl standing at her side.

Eventually, she hears Lexa let out a sigh.

“Clarke.” She says, voice tense, “Can I please talk to you?”

Clarke doesn’t look at Lexa, stirring her drink with her straw, “Sorry,” she hums, “I’m kind of busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yep.”

Clarke can see the frown on Lexa’s face out of the corner of her eye but the hockey player doesn’t leave. Instead, Lexa lets out another bothered sigh and falls down onto the stool next to her.

Clarke’s eyes finally glance over at Lexa, stubborn irritation written on her features, “What’re you doing?”

“Sitting.”

“I didn’t say you could sit down.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission.” Lexa says, ordering a water from the bartender.

Clarke’s jaw tightens, eyes narrowing at Lexa, “Fine.” She bites out, swigging back the rest of her drink and receiving raised eyebrows from the other girl in return.

“How much have you had to drink, Clarke?”

“None of your business, _Lexa._ ” Clarke grumbles, however only a moment later Lexa’s concerned stare gets to her, “Barely anything.” She says, “So no need for the Fun Police.”

Lexa continues to watch her with those annoyingly inquisitive eyes, tracing Clarke’s features in search of something, “Look,” she sighs, “Can we please act like adults and have a proper conversation?”

Clarke scoffs, “Why start now? You’ve been doing so well in the role of the pissy twelve year-old.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Clarke quips, “I’m just calling it how I see it.”

Clarke would be amused by how much she’s testing Lexa’s patience right now if she weren’t too busy being annoyed by the hockey player’s general presence.

Lexa’s just managed to push her pride aside to attempt conversation once more when her efforts are halted by the appearance of a very inebriated Monty.

Clarke instinctively reaches out to help her friend balance as he barely manages to get himself onto the stool, Monty eventually managing to gather his wits enough not to require assistance.

“Hey, buddy.” Clarke greets, smiling unsurely at the boy and resting her hand on his back, “How’re you feeling?”

Monty looks at Clarke with droopy eyes, shrugging weakly before turning back to the bar, “Miss!” he calls, falling forward on the bar clumsily as he waves for the bartender.

After a few moments of lazy flailing that Clarke assumes is his drunken attempt at catching the bartender’s attention, the woman finally moves to serve him.

“Hello,” Monty smiles drunkenly at her, “Can I please have… another of these?” he pushes forward his empty glass, voice slurred.

Clarke hears the impatient sigh Lexa lets out but the hockey player doesn’t go anywhere, instead apparently deciding to wait it out.

The bartender looks at Monty with an expression that tells Clarke she’s most _definitely_ not serving the boy any more alcohol, eyes moving to Clarke in question.

“He’ll be fine with water.” Clarke smiles politely, the bartender nodding in agreement.

“What? No…” Monty pouts as a glass of water is slid towards him and the bartender walks off to serve someone else, “But I don’t want that…”

“Come on, Mont.” Clarke sighs, pushing the water closer to her friend, “You’ll feel better after this.”

“No I won’t.” Monty grumbles, “Water’s not gonna fix this.”

Clarke follows the direction where Monty is glaring, finding Jasper flirting with a girl in one of the booths. Her heart aches a little for her friend, reaching out to run her hand through his hair fondly.

“Just drink the water, Monty.”

Monty ignores the order, looking between Clarke and an openly irritated Lexa with narrowed eyes, “Am I interrupting something?”

“Actually-”

“No.” Clarke cuts in immediately, sending Lexa a look that says ‘go the hell away already’, “We weren’t even speaking.”

“Good.” Monty nods happily, “See, this is why you’re _my_ friend.” He says poking Clarke a bit too firmly, “You’re smart.”

“Smart?”

Monty grunts in response, catching the straw in his glass with his mouth and taking a sip, “Feelings suck and people _suck_.” He straightens up suddenly, eyes narrowing at Lexa, “Why do you all have to confuse us, huh?” he prods, “Actin’ all nice, pretending you like us…” he slurs, glaring at Lexa,“And then you’re off flirting with dumb girls.”

Clarke has to bite back the amused smile at Monty’s attack on Lexa, peering over at the hockey player to find her wearing an offended expression. Usually Clarke would apologize for her friend’s candid remarks, but right now she’s happy to enjoy how irritated Lexa looks.

Because _you know what?_ Monty’s not all wrong.

The boy in question’s head falls to the bar with a thud then, Monty groaning against the surface but remaining in his spot; Clarke takes this as a sign to get her friend the hell out of there before the alcohol catches up to him (well, more so than it already has).

“Watch him for a second.” Clarke grumbles out to Lexa, getting up from the stool and heading over to let the rest of the group know they’re leaving. They offer to come with but Clarke declines, knowing Monty will already be feeling guilty enough when he wakes up in the morning without also being responsible for his friends heading home earlier. When she returns to the bar Monty is still sitting with his head on the counter, Lexa looking highly unimpressed as she watches him.

(Clarke gives her points for obedience, though)

“Okay, let’s get you home.” Clarke declares when she reaches them, nudging Monty until he begrudgingly stirs.

“ _Fine!_ ” Monty huffs dramatically, standing up on wobbly legs and slinging his arm over Clarke’s shoulder for support, “I feel sick.”

“I’m not surprised.” Clarke says, “Just try hold it together before we get home, okay?”

Monty grunts in response, making little effort to help Clarke along as she practically carries him towards the exit. She only makes it a few steps before Lexa is in front of her.

“I’ll give you a ride.” Lexa states, going to help Clarke with Monty only to have Clarke step back.

“No. We’re fine.”

Lexa rolls her eyes at Clarke’s stubbornness, “Well how else are you getting home?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke huffs, “There’ll be an Uber around somewhere.”

“I have a car, Clarke.” Lexa pushes, “Let me help.”

Clarke’s jaw tightens, wanting to fight Lexa further but distracted when Monty hiccups next to her, peering up with an expression that says he’s either about to pass out or vomit everywhere.

“Fine.” Clarke relents begrudgingly, “We’ll take the lift.”

Lexa nods, stepping in to support Monty on her other side before leading them out of the bar.

The pair manage to wrestle Monty into the backseat of Lexa’s car and the drive back to campus is relatively silent, with Clarke switching on the radio when it gets to an unsetting level of awkward.

“Where does he live?” Lexa asks, breaking the achingly cold silence and glancing to Clarke briefly.

“Just drive to my place.” Clarke says, staring out the window.

“I don’t mind driving to his as well.”

“No, it’s fine. He’ll want to be at mine.”

Lexa nods, “Okay.”

Clarke glances over at Lexa, noting the hard grip the girl has on the steering wheel. She feels a slimmer of guilt for being harsh, seeing as Lexa’s here helping a friend of Clarke’s that really only insulted her in the small interaction they’ve had throughout the night.

She decides to throw her a bone, letting out a sigh and allowed herself to relax in the passenger seat, “So… you weren’t drinking tonight?”

Lexa seems surprised by the conversation starter, “Uh, no.”

“Why not?”

“We have a game Sunday. I want to be okay for practice tomorrow.”

“But you still came out?”

Lexa shrugs, “I- uh... well I knew you were going to be there.” She admits, “And I wanted to talk to you.”

Clarke pauses, “Oh.”

There’s that guilt again.

Lexa just nods, looking embarrassed while Clarke turns her attention to Monty in the back, who is groaning dramatically while he lies strewn across the seat.

When they pull up to Clarke’s apartment complex Lexa helps in getting Monty up and into the apartment. Lexa waits out in the living area while Clarke puts Monty in her room, deciding her friend probably needs a good night’s sleep more than she does.

Clarke places a bottle of water on the bedside table as Monty falls onto the bed.

“Claaarrkeee,” Monty whines, letting out a heavy breath as he rolls over on the mattress to look at his friend.

“Yes?”

Monty pouts, “Sorry.”

A soft laugh falls from Clarke’s lips, “It’s fine. I wasn’t having fun at the bar anyway. I’m sure Finn would have had another speech ready to deliver to me.”

The boy sighs, face falling as his mind ventures to the night’s events, “Why do we fall for the wrong people?” he says eventually, dark eyes looking to Clarke as though she’s supposed to have the answer to his question.

(She definitely doesn’t).

Clarke smiles sadly, reaching out to toy with Monty’s fringe lightly, “Maybe we just haven’t met the _right_ people yet.”

Monty watches Clarke with heavy eyes, “Lexa helped me.” He states eventually, voice slightly muffled from how his face is squished against the pillow.

“She did.”

“You really like her?”

Clarke pauses at the question, letting out a soft laugh and deciding that Monty deserves honesty for the night he’s had.

(The fact that he probably won’t remember this conversation helps, too.)

“Truthfully?”

Monty nods, waiting patiently for her answer.

Clarke sighs, shrugging, “Yeah. I think so.”

It’s the first time Clarke’s confirmed it to someone, and saying it out loud makes it feel like a little more than the childish crush she’s being telling herself it is.

“Not that it seems to matter.” She continues, “I’m not sure she feels the same way.”

Monty fights back a yawn, eyes beginning to flutter closed, “Well,” he huffs, bringing the comforter up over his shoulders, “She’s not here for me.”

Monty doesn’t say anything after that, Clarke soon hearing his breaths evening out as he falls asleep.

When Clarke’s sure the boy is settled she makes her way out of her room, closing the door behind her and looking down the hall to find Lexa still waiting out in the living area.

“Is he okay?” Lexa asks when she sees Clarke approaching.

“He’ll have a killer hangover.”

“No, I mean… he seemed upset.”

“Oh.” Clarke sighs, shrugging, “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

Lexa nods solemnly, “He’s lucky to have you.”

“Trust me, he’s done a lot more for me.” Clarke laughs, “Drunk Monty is a lot easier to handle than Drunk Clarke.”

A hint of a smile tugs at Lexa’s lips, the hockey player’s attention turning to everything but Clarke as she shifts on the spot.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then.” She states, a hint of defeat in her tone that manages to dig it’s way into Clarke’s heart.

Clarke only lets Lexa get a few steps towards the door before she gives in.

“I thought you wanted to talk.”

Lexa stops at Clarke’s voice, turning back around and shrugging, “You’ve made it fairly obvious that you don’t want to.”

“Well, you’ve put in so much effort,” Clarke sighs, attempting to remain nonchalant and crossing her arms in front of her chest, “I guess hearing you out is the least I could do…”

A soft smile tugs at Lexa’s lips, “I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” she says after a moment, smile replaced with an anxious expression as she meets Clarke’s gaze, “You’re right. I was ignoring you.”

Clarke frowns, “But _why_? I thought we were getting along and then you just went cold.”

“I’m not good at… closeness.” Lexa explains hesitantly, “I guess you intimidate me.”

“You think I’m intimidating?” Clarke almost laughs at the admission, “You realize when we met _you_ were the one ready to hit me with a hockey stick, right?”

Lexa sighs, shaking her head, “No- it’s not… it’s not you. It’s just who I am.” She admits begrudgingly, crossing her arms in front of her, “Opening up and friendship… it doesn’t really come easily to me. You just kind of took me off guard. ”

“Oh.” Clarke’s frown deepens, “Was I… was I too full-on?” she asks, feeling guilty over the thought of making Lexa uncomfortable.

“No. I mean… I didn’t really mind it.” Lexa says, “I guess that’s the part that spooked me. The last time I felt that comfortable with someone, it didn’t end so well for me.” She lets out a deep breath, shrugging, “So I’m sorry for upsetting you. It wasn’t my intention.”

Clarke’s stubbornness usually leads to grudges that last a lot longer than a few days, but the genuine regret and unease on Lexa’s face makes it difficult to cling to how frustrated the hockey player’s actions have made her in the past week. So, she decides to let it go.

Just this once.

(Maybe not just this once.)

(She’s a sucker for hot hockey players, okay)

“Thank you for apologizing.” Clarke says, “And I’m sorry for calling you an ass”

Lexa smiles, looking genuinely relieved over being forgiven, “Well I was being one.” She jokes lightly, “So…. I should probably go, then.”

“You don’t have to.” Clarke says (maybe a bit too eagerly), “I mean- if you want to go I get it I just-”

“Clarke.” Lexa chuckles, “Breathe.”

Clarke pauses, taking a moment to collect herself, “I wouldn’t mind the company.” She says, “Seeing as Monty’s taken my bed I’m stuck with the couch anyway.”

Lexa doesn’t seem to need much convincing, presumably relieved Clarke even wants to spend time together after their interactions (or lack of) in the past week, and the hockey player smiles softly before murmuring out an ‘okay’.

Clarke microwaves some popcorn before she situates herself on the couch, ignoring habit and sitting on the other end to Lexa, leaving an awkwardly large amount of space between the pair. She sees the girl frown at the distance but Clarke remains in place, deciding to leave the breaching of personal space to Lexa if she desires to do so.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Clarke explains, shrugging innocently and shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

“Well, now it’s awkward.” Lexa mumbles, rolling her eyes and shuffling along the couch until she’s next to Clarke, “And you have the popcorn.” She adds in excuse, grabbing a handful for herself.

Clarke grins, picking up the remote and beginning to load Netflix, “So, any preferences?”

* * *

 

It takes a surprisingly long time for the pair to decide on something to watch, Clarke and Lexa eventually agreeing on some wildlife series and settling in, sharing conversation on their thoughts of whatever animal the latest segment focuses on.

It’s easy, and comfortable, and Clarke decides putting her stubbornness aside was completely worth it just to be able to be in Lexa’s company like this again.

They’re into their third episode when Lexa’s attention is caught by Clarke’s art journal sitting on the coffee table. Clarke pretends not to panic as she watches the hockey player swipe up the book, hands gripping the bowl of popcorn in her lap just a little bit too tight and hoping Lexa will be distracted by the lions currently hunting onscreen.

Unfortunately the lions don’t distract her, and Lexa settles back on the couch with the journal in her lap before looking to Clarke in question, “Do you mind?”

Clarke considers saying she does, but denying Lexa is probably strange and they’re _finally_ back to feeling comfortable around one another, so she swallows the lump in the throat and nods, feigning a care-free smile. She just hopes Lexa will get bored before she reaches the section of the journal that has an embarrassing amount of sketches that resemble the hockey player next to her.

The first pages are innocent enough, sketches of wildlife and scenes Clarke’s spotted on campus, with appearances by her friends in a number of them. Lexa reaches one of Raven and Bellamy, the mechanic attempting to help a stubborn-looking Bellamy style his hair.

“You’re very good, you know.” Lexa says.

A smile traces Clarke’s lips at that, “Thanks.”

“Did you always want to be an artist?”

Clarke shrugs, “I don’t know.” She says, “I always thought I’d end up in medicine. I mean- it was my mom’s grand vision for me.” Clarke rolls her eyes at the thought of the woman, “But I think deep down I always knew this was what I wanted.”

“You don’t get along with your mother?” Lexa asks, eyes on Clarke now.

“We just have very different opinions.” Clarke sighs, “I mean, she tells me how against my choices she is on the regular, but at least she’s letting me do what I want at the end of the day.”

Lexa frowns, “Well, I think you’re in the right course.”

“Thanks.” Clarke smiles, “I’m guessing your parents aren’t particularly upset with a political science major and hockey star for a daughter?”

A soft laugh falls from Lexa’s lips and her attention turns back to the journal, turning the page to look at the next sketch, “It’s not the forces, but they’re living with it.”

“You’re an army brat?”

“Does that surprise you?”

Clarke pauses, “… not really, I guess. It explains some things.” She says, “So why’d you decide to stray from the family occupation?

Lexa shrugs, “It’s not for me. I want to experience new things, and after moving around so much being in a job with a set destination sounds nice.”

“I understand that.” Clarke nods, distracted as she notices Lexa’s one page away from the beginning of her copious sketches of her, “Um… _so-_ ” she lets out a nervous laugh, reaching to grab the book from Lexa, and attempting to tug it back towards her before she is sent into a pit of embarrassment, “Where have you lived?”

“Nowhere particularly interesting.” Lexa murmurs, grip on the journal remaining firm and grinning as she looks over at Clarke, “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah.” Clarke shakes her head, tugging the book towards her again.

“Is there something you don’t want me to see?” Lexa teases, beginning to turn the page.

Clarke catches the beginning of a sketch of Lexa and yanks the book out of her lap quickly, shutting the journal with red cheeks, “Just- uh- those ones suck-”

“That was a sketch of me-”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was.”

“It was Octavia.”

Lexa wears an amused grin that tells Clarke she doesn’t believe the claim, “Can I see it, then?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I told you, it’s bad.”

“Clarke.”

“ _Lexa_.”

The hockey player lets out a loud laugh, “I promise I won’t make fun of you. I’d like to see it.”

Clarke remains reluctant, grip ridiculously tight on her journal and half-considering ‘accidentally’ launching the thing out the window.

“… Fine.” She relents eventually, handing the journal over to Lexa in defeat, “Just… don’t judge.”

“I won’t.” Lexa nods, sparing little time finding her place in the journal again.

The first page has a collection of doodles Clarke drew while in Lexa’s apartment, the hockey player featured studying opposite Clarke at the table and carrying out various activities in the apartment in other small drawings.

The second page is of Lexa on the hockey field, and Clarke nervously shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth as she pretends that the detail she’s put into the image of a toned Lexa in her sports bra totally isn’t weird, and that it definitely isn’t the product of Clarke thinking about the image too much after watching her train that day.

Thankfully, a sketch of a sunset breaks up the drawings of Lexa, but then Clarke remembers the drawing on the next page and she can already feel her cheeks heating up.

The sketch is of Lexa’s bare back, braided hair brushed over her shoulder to display the tattoos that occupy her skin. Lexa’s fingertips trace over the drawing when she reaches it, taking in the intrinsic details Clarke has put into the piece.

“You probably think I’m the biggest creep now.” Clarke huffs, hating how hot her cheeks feel and cursing herself for not following through on the window idea.

She also curses herself for having a dumb infatuation with Lexa that has _led_ to the numerous sketches on the pages.

“The tattoos are surprisingly accurate.” Lexa says, ignoring Clarke’s statement, “You have a good memory.”

Clarke’s mouth opens and closes as she attempts to respond, “Uh… yeah.”

Yeah. Let’s go with that explanation. Not the one where Clarke just hasn’t been able to get Lexa’s bare, tattooed back out of her mind since the moment the girl lifted her damn shirt up the other week.

Yeah. Clarke just has a really great memory that applies to all aspects of life.

“Thank you for sharing these with me.” Lexa says, “And for drawing me.”

“I mean, you don’t really make it hard.”

“What does that mean?”

Clarke pauses, “Just... I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.” She lets out a sigh, this time managing to retrieve her journal from Lexa’s grasp and placing it back on the coffee table, happy to let the other sketches of the girl go unseen.

Lexa watches Clarke with a soft smile when she settles back on the couch, taking in the girl’s flustered appearance, “Why are you so embarrassed?”

Clarke groans, running a hand down her face, “I don’t know.” She mumbles, “I mean- it’s a lot of drawings of you.”

“I find it flattering.” Lexa says, “You draw your other friends as well. You don’t seem embarrassed by that.”

“Yeah… I guess.” Clarke agrees softly, “It’s just different.”

“Why?”

Clarke eyes Lexa for a moment, wondering just when _she_ became the one of them to struggle with her words.

She knows why it’s different. When Clarke draws her friends it’s just for practice. When she’s drawing Lexa, it’s because she hasn’t been able to get the girl out of her head since the day she met her.

“I don’t think you’d want to hear my answer.” Clarke settles on, watching the way Lexa’s brow furrows in response.

Lexa seems to struggle with her reply, tongue running over her lips and swallowing hard. When she does speak, her voice is quiet; unsure as her words leave her mouth.

“Maybe I do.”

Clarke’s not sure what to say; doesn’t want to admit to Lexa what she’s really only beginning to come to terms with herself. Because if she’s already reacting so heavily to Lexa’s actions, what happens when she gives the hockey player that little bit more power over her?

Clarke’s heart jumps to her throat as Lexa moves closer, her eyes darting down to Lexa’s lips. She doesn’t move away (not a bone in her body wants to), and Clarke leans into Lexa’s touch when the girl’s hand brushes along her jaw lightly.

“Lexa?”

Green eyes barely manage to tear away from Clarke’s lips to meet her gaze, “Yes?”

Clarke swallows, breath hitching as Lexa’s hand settles at the back of her neck and sends shivers down her spine.

“Promise you won’t shut me out again?”

Lexa softens at that, nodding, “I promise.”

And then Lexa is leaning again and her lips are on Clarke’s, and Clarke doesn’t need a beat before reciprocating.

Lexa kisses her delicately at first, but the hunger that’s been growing inside of Clarke since meeting Lexa soon wins out and Clarke is deepening the kiss and pulling Lexa into her eagerly. The bowl of popcorn is lost to the floor as Clarke moves up the couch to lie down, bringing Lexa with her and ignoring the mess she’s no doubt just made.

Clarke is surprised by how easily Lexa keeps up with her pace, settling on top of Clarke and kissing her boldly with an unbridled desire that has Clarke melting beneath her. She can’t remember the last time she wanted someone like this, overcome with the greedy need to have as much of Lexa as the hockey player will allow her.

She feels Lexa’s hand squeeze her waist lightly and Clarke’s legs wrap around her, pulling the girl closer and letting out an embarrassing whimper as Lexa’s tongue finds it’s way between her lips.

Clarke stopped breathing the moment Lexa’s lips met hers, and she’s damn well happy to never breathe again if it means she never has to stop doing this.

Her fingers toy with the hem of Lexa’s top in silent request and when Lexa simply continues kissing her Clarke takes it as all the permission she needs to explore the toned body beneath it. She grins against Lexa’s lips when her nails scratch at the small of her back and Lexa’s hips grind down into her in response.

Her fingers then find Lexa’s stomach, splayed across her skin and relishing in the feel of tight muscles reacting under her touch.

Clarke’s head it too busy spinning to register the sound of a key in the door, and it’s not until Raven’s loud voice breaks what had been silence between sharp breaths that Clarke finds herself dragged back to the ground of reality.

“HONEY!”

The door bursts open and a very intoxicated Raven stumbles into the apartment, “I’M HOME!”

Lexa’s lips are suddenly gone and the hockey player is scrambling off of Clarke, but not before Raven has already witnessed everything. Clarke sits up quickly, flustered and a little bit frustrated at being interrupted.

(Seriously, she was seconds away from getting Lexa shirtless)

“Oh my god.” Raven gapes, staring at the pair wide-eyed. Her gaze darts between an irritated Clarke and a red-faced Lexa, and a loud laugh leaves her lips, “ _Well then_. At least one of us is getting a little somethin’ somethin’ tonight.”

Clarke’s glare goes completely ignored as Raven heads over to the kitchen, steps lazy and apparently completely lacking in a center of gravity.

“You guys hungry?” She mumbles, coming to a halt at the fridge and opening it to begin her drunken raid of the food inside, “Clearly you didn’t eat your popcorn.”

Clarke holds back a pained groan, glancing briefly down to the mess of popcorn spilt on the floor before turning to Lexa (who looks like she’s ready to run for the hills).

“No.” she bites out, “We’re fine.”

Lexa offers Clarke a soft smile, apparently finding her bearing again and clearing her throat, “I- uh… I should go.” She says, already retrieving her jacket from where it sits on the kitchen counter.

“Right.” Clarke nods, barely able to blame Lexa for wanting to escape the teasing that Raven is no doubt about to deliver.

Still, she might be a little disappointed by the end of what was proving to be a surprisingly great night.

(Clarke’s definitely not giving Monty her bed next time)

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Lexa says as she moves to the door, Clarke feeling a little bit relieved at the small reassurance that Lexa doesn’t plan to ignore her again now.

Clarke smiles, “Sure.”

Lexa lingers at the door awkwardly for a moment, glancing to Raven who is staring at the pair with a smug smile.

“See ya later, Lexa.” Raven cooes, winking at her and receiving another glare from Clarke in return.

Lexa doesn’t wait around much longer after that, mumbling out a goodbye to Clarke before escaping and leaving Clarke alone with her drunk roommate.

Once the door closes behind Lexa, Raven’s attention turns to Clarke, grinning wickedly at her friend.

“Well now we know she’s not straight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I’ve been focusing on finishing one of my other stories. Hopefully some people are still interesting in reading :) I'm hoping to have more time to focus on this so finger's crossed. I tried to give you a tiny bit more detail about Lexa's background here. You'll be finding out more in coming chapters!  
> Thank you to everyone who has read so far and left comments/kudos, let me know what you thought of this one! And if any of you are over on tumblr, you can find me as pizzaoctavia as well over there :) 
> 
> See ya next time!


	5. Chapter 5

When Clarke wakes on Saturday it is to the smell of coffee and the sounds of Octavia and Raven’s poor attempts of quiet voices in the kitchen. She lets out a soft groan, stretching out the kinks in her back from a night on the couch and rising to glare over at her best friends.

“Don’t mind me.” She grumbles out, garnering the pair’s attention.

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to loan your bed out to the needy.” Raven quips, “Anyway, we’re making pancakes. Be grateful.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, resting her head in her arms and watching her friends move about the space, “Shouldn’t you be more hungover?”

“Please, I wasn’t _that_ drunk last night.” Raven says, “I ate my weight in pizza before bed, anyway.”

Clarke looks to Octavia, already regretting prompting an answer when she sees the smirk on the girl’s face.

“I sweated out the alcohol last night.” She shrugs, eyes shining with amusement at the disgusted sounds Raven and Clarke make in response.

Raven thrusts a wooden spoon out to Octavia, glaring at her friend, “Quit rubbing it in and stir.”

Octavia does as she’s told, accepting the spoon and moving to where a bowl sits on the counter. She picks up the bowl, beginning to stir the pancake mix inside and leaning back against the island, “So _Clarke_ ,” she starts, watching her friend with a smirk, “Is Lexa a good kisser?”

Clarke gapes, looks to Raven who is wearing a highly amused grin, and lets out a loud huff, falling back down onto the couch in defeat, “Fuck off.”

“Hey! It’s just a question.” Octavia laughs, “I’m curious.”

“Sorry, Princess.” Raven grins, “I couldn’t help but share.”

“You know the no sex on the couch rule applies to all of us, right?” Octavia continues to tease, “Not just me.”

“Again: Fuck off.” Clarke grumbles.

Raven is laughing, enjoying Clarke’s embarrassment, “Are you going to tell us how it happened? Last I checked the Ice Queen was ignoring you.”

“She apologized.”

“And then you shoved your tongue down her throat in thanks?”

“At least I _have_ someone to makeout with.” Clarke says, looking over to Raven with an arched brow.

Raven gapes at dig directed at her, any smug response lost on her lips while Octavia simply lets out a loud laugh.

“She’s got you there, Ray.” Octavia grins, “Look who’s in a drought now.”

Raven looks like she’s about to argue the point, but the mechanic seems to decide against it, deflating and letting out a defeated sigh, “I need to get laid.”

“So does Clarke, too, to be fair. She’s not out of the woods yet.” Octavia adds-in, waggling her eyebrows over at Clarke, “Meeting up with Lexa anytime soon?”

Clarke glares at her friend, groaning dramatically and getting up from the couch, “I’m gonna wake Monty up.” She huffs, “Quit talking shit and make me pancakes already.”

Octavia watches as Clarke heads down the hall, eventually turning to Raven and smirking at the girl, “Well _I_ got laid last night.”

Octavia just manages to duck the spoonful of pancake mix that comes flying at her head.

* * *

When Clarke walks into her room she finds Monty already awake, the boy lying in Clarke’s bed and staring at the ceiling with a furrowed brow. His head lolls to the side so he can look at Clarke when she walks in, and the blonde immediately places the hungover expression, seasoned with strong hints of regret and embarrassment.

“I hate myself.” Monty says simply as Clarke approaches, the boy letting out a dramatic groan and looking back to the ceiling, “Why’d I drink so much?”

“I think a determined Bellamy had a lot to do with it.” Clarke chuckles, choosing to leave out the other reason that she suspects is at fault for Monty’s overzealous drinking.

“Did I do anything embarrassing?”

“You don’t remember?”

Monty eyes Clarke, clearly processing the happenings of the night before a mixture of shame and fear crosses his features, “I was hoping that was all a nightmare.” he mumbles, looking a lot less comfortable in Clarke’s presence than before, “Clarke… last night…” he cringes, “Can you just- can you please not tell anyone about it? The things I was saying…”

“Don’t worry.” Clarke offers her friend a soft smile, shrugging, “It’s forgotten.”

Monty looks relieved at her answer, the boy letting out a soft sigh and sitting up from the bed, “Thank you for looking out for me.” He says, “Is Lexa still here?”

“Um- no.” Clarke shakes her head, “She went home last night.”

Monty eyes Clarke, noting the soft redness to her cheeks and arching an eyebrow, “Did I cockblock you guys?”

Clarke laughs, “A little bit.” She says, “But without your drunk ass needing assistance, we wouldn’t even be talking again. So you’re forgiven.”

“Ah, I see.” Monty smiles, “Well say thanks for me. And sorry; she probably doesn’t like me much.

Clarke can’t help the wide grin that traces her lips at the memory of Lexa’s offended expression the night before, “I’ll pass the message on.” She says.

“Thanks.”

Clarke watches Monty, chewing on her bottom lip worriedly, “You know I’m here for you, right?” she says after a moment, “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen. You don’t need to go through anything alone.”

Monty nods, offering Clarke a half-hearted smile, “I know.”

It’s clear he isn’t planning on taking Clarke up on the offer currently, so Clarke decides to let it go, content to wait for when (or if) Monty decides he wants to talk about it.

“Okay.” Clarke smiles, “Anyway, get up.” She taps Monty’s leg in prompt, getting up from the bed and heading towards the door, “Raven and O are making pancakes.”

* * *

Monty hangs out for the day, spending his hangover with an equally worse for wear Raven. Clarke attempts to study for a while before caving and joining the pair in a Real Housewives marathon, seeing as her mind refuses to focus on anything but Lexa anyway.

Her fingers itch to send a text the hockey player’s way but Clarke refrains, not wanting to risk freaking Lexa out and coming off clingy. Because it was just a kiss, right? No big deal. Even if Clarke’s been running the whole thing through her head all damn day.

Clarke is dozing off on Monty’s shoulder when Octavia (who had somehow found the energy to go to the gym with Lincoln), enters the apartment. She walks over to stand in front of the couch, obstructing the trio’s view of the TV and looking at her friends expectantly.

“I need a volunteer.” She declares, “Who’s the least hungover?”

“Clarke.” Raven and Monty answer in tandem.

Clarke glares at the pair, looking to Octavia and letting out a groan, “What do you want?”

“I need you to help me get food. I’ve decided that we’re having a family night.”

“Seriously?” Clarke huffs, “Tonight?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Because no one wants to go to a party and I’m not spending my Saturday watching the Real Housewives.” Octavia drawls, then offering Clarke a pleading look, jutting her bottom lip out, “Please? Bell is going to bring Cards Against Humanity.”

“You know that’s not the greatest game to play with your brother.”

“I’ve walked in on him and Raven getting busy.” Octavia cringes, “I’m as scarred as I can be.”

Clarke accepts that, laughing when Raven winks at Octavia and receives the middle finger in response.

“Fuck it, I’m up for it.” Raven sighs, “So long as we have burgers.”

“Deal.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, sighing, “Fine.” She mumbles, climbing off the couch, “Give me ten minutes.”

“By the way, _Lexa_ came to the gym with me and Lincoln.” Octavia says, making Clarke come to a stop and smirking at her friend, “She was a lot peppier than usual.”

Raven snorts, laughing loudly while Monty chuckles quietly next to her, “The Clarke Griffin bi-experience is a powerful thing.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Clarke huffs, turning on her heel and heading to her bedroom.

She doesn’t let her friends see the small smile that toys with her lips, the artist just a _little_ bit happy to hear about Lexa’s good mood.

* * *

Clarke goes to the local store with Octavia and the pair eventually return to their apartment with food in tow, finding Bellamy and Jasper already occupying the space.

Clarke sends a worried look over to Monty when she first sees Jasper, but her friend’s troubles of the night before have apparently been shoved to the back of his mind again. Jasper is oblivious as usual, and Monty is soon happily talking with his best friend like nothing ever happened. Clarke can’t help the tinge of disappointment she feels at the sight, wishing Monty would break out of the cycle he’s found himself in.

They group situate themselves out at the table on the balcony of the apartment, casually drinking and talking amongst one another. Monty chooses to forgo the beer his friends are drinking, the boy’s face paling comically at the thought of consuming any form of alcohol.

Bellamy and Raven take it upon themselves to work the grill and the pair are bickering in no time, shoulder to shoulder and elbowing each other stubbornly.

“You’re burning the patties.” Raven huffs, “Just let me do it.”

“No.”

“Bellamy no one wants a burnt burger-”

“They’re well done-”

“They’re literally fucking black-”

“That’s well done! You can do the next lot.” Bellamy grumbles, fighting off Raven as the girl attempts to swipe the tongs from him, “Quit micromanaging me.”

“You do this _every_ time.” Raven complains, “No one is going to eat those.”

“I will.”

“You have poor frat boy taste.”

Bellamy scoffs, “You had sex with this frat boy.”

“And it haunts me to this day.”

“Fucking-” Bellamy huffs, “You barely even _cook_ your patties, it’s disgusting.”

“They don’t need to be black to be cooked, you moron.” Raven responds mockingly.

“Yeah well I’m pretty sure they’re not supposed to be _bleeding_.”

“Fuck off; everyone prefers mine. Ask them.”

Bellamy whips around, looking grumpy as ever as he regards the group of friends, “Is that true?”

“None of us _care_.” Jasper groans, fist hitting the table impatiently, “Just feed us!”

Bellamy glares at the boy, turning back to the grill and elbowing Raven in the side, “Mine are better.”

Clarke’s attention is pulled away from Raven and Bellamy when Octavia jumps up from the table, bounding back inside the apartment to where Lincoln is walking inside. The blonde’s stomach jumps as she sees Lexa following him into the apartment, the hockey player carrying extra snacks in her hand and speaking to Octavia.

Clarke attempts to play it cool, waiting a minute before getting up from the table and moving inside to greet Lexa, who is lingering near the kitchen with Lincoln while Octavia begins to gather the burger rolls and salad for dinner.

Lexa’s eyes snap to Clarke as the blonde walks back into the apartment, a soft smile tracing her lips and watching as she approaches.

Clarke offers her a nervous smile, “Hey.” She breathes, coming to a stop in front of Lexa, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Octavia invited me.” Lexa says, “I couldn’t really say no to free food.”

Clarke looks to Octavia, who simply winks at her before pressing a kiss to Lincoln’s cheek and setting her boyfriend to work with the food prep.

Clarke grins, turning back to Lexa, “Well, would you like a beer?” she asks, already moving to the fridge, “Or water.” She waves her hand airily, letting out a soft laugh, “That’s basically all we have other than bad coffee.”

“Beer is fine.”

Clarke retrieves two beers, walking back over to Lexa and handing one to the girl. She leans back against the counter, opening her own beer and taking a swig.

Clarke’s unsure just what to say to Lexa now that the girl is standing right in front of her. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Does she bring up the kiss? Or are they just going to ignore that?

“How is your friend?”

Clarke glances over to where Monty sits at the table outside, “He’s okay.” She shrugs, turning back to Lexa, “A little embarrassed. Thank you for helping last night.”

Lexa nods curtly, “No problem.”

A silence hangs between them, Lexa watching Clarke with a hint of expectation in her features that makes Clarke wonder exactly _how_ the hockey player wants her to respond to the happenings of the night before.

She’s saved the trouble, however, by Raven and Bellamy.

“Patties are done!” Raven yells, leaning her head into the apartment, “Let’s eat!”

Bellamy appears next to her, lightly pushing Raven out of the way (for the sole purpose of annoying the girl, “Everything else ready?”

Octavia nods, “It’s coming.”

Clarke takes it upon herself as partial-hostess to help Octavia collect the food, retrieving some tubs of salad they purchased earlier from the fridge and gathering the sauces for the burgers.

Lexa waits, watching Clarke, “Would you like some help?”

“Oh, no.” Clarke shrugs, “We’ve got it.”

Lexa nods and follows Lincoln outside, Clarke and Octavia soon following with the rest of the food. Once she’s placed the food on the table Clarke takes a step back, going to sit down only to find all the seats taken. The other seats inside have already been dragged out and occupied, and Clarke huffs as Octavia takes residence in Lincoln’s lap happily.

“Where am I supposed to sit?”

Raven rolls her eyes as Clarke stands there, “Just sit on Lexa’s lap.” she orders, waving her hand in dismissal, “Come on. Food’s getting cold.”

“You can sit on _my_ lap, if you like.” Jasper offers, his suggestion going ignored by everyone except Bellamy, who hits the back of the boy’s head in response.

“ _Ow!_ ” Jasper whines, rubbing his head.

Clarke pauses, looking to Lexa who is shifting in her seat awkwardly, “… do you mind?”

Lexa’s eyes snap to Clarke’s, “Um- no.” she shakes her head, shifting her chair back from the table slightly, “Go ahead.”

The artist remains in her place for a moment, reading Lexa’s face and (once again) coming up empty as to whether the girl is definitely okay with it or not. When her stomach grumbles in protest at the prolonged hunger, Clarke admits defeat and prepares herself a burger before moving to perch herself awkwardly on Lexa’s knees.

Pretending the action doesn’t make her body buzz with nervous energy, Clarke focuses her attention on her friends and making her way through her burger.

It’s not until they begin playing Cards Against Humanity (and with the aid of a few beers) that Clarke finally manages to kick the awkwardness of their current position. The group pair off for the game and Clarke shifts further back in Lexa’s lap, her back pressed against the hockey player’s front.

Lexa’s arms, which had been previously hanging at her sides self-consciously, now reach around Clarke’s middle so they can both see their cards. Her hands settle in Clarke’s lap, and Clarke can’t help but note the slightly too-tight grip Lexa has on the cards.

“Is this okay?” Lexa asks hesitantly when Clarke shifts on top of her.

“Yep.” Clarke answers quickly, voice a slightly higher pitch and blue eyes staring at their cards as she attempts to ignore how her body is reacting to Lexa’s close proximity.

The game is eventually underway with Octavia reading the first White Card out, and the group of friends are soon snickering to their partners over the cards in their hands. Each round someone bickers with someone else over the choice of the winning card, and Clarke finds herself growing more and more comfortable.

Clarke, usually an avid participant in the game, is lost to the general presence of Lexa throughout the whole thing. She can feel Lexa’s breath against her neck when the hockey player laughs at something, and every time it happens Clarke finds herself completely forgetting what the latest card in the game even is.

Before last night, being in close proximity to Lexa was easy (well, she at least didn’t act like an awkward mute), but apparently discovering what kissing Lexa is like has completely changed everything and now Clarke’s turned into a nervous pre-teen with a crush. Tragic.

Despite her general nerves, it feels oddly natural, sitting with Lexa in the company of her friends. Lexa seems more at ease than usual and Clarke has to force her mind not to wander to the hopes that the easiness of the situation brings to her.

When they finish playing the game, the friends continue talking amongst one another. Octavia, Jasper and Monty end up wandering back inside to watch some TV series only the trio would enjoy, leaving the rest of the group out on the balcony.

Clarke doesn’t move from Lexa’s lap despite seats being made available to her, and Lexa doesn’t question it.

Lexa’s head is resting on Clarke’s shoulder, her arms wrapped snug around the blonde’s middle and fingers tracing light circles at the skin exposed between Clarke’s shirt and her jeans.

She’s not even sure if Lexa is aware of the soft action, but _Clarke_ definitely is. She decides not to draw attention to it, not wanting to risk the loss of Lexa’s warmth.

“So, Lexa.” Bellamy starts, looking to the hockey player with a firm expression, “You’re pretty close to Anya, yeah?”

Clare feels Lexa straighten up behind her, hands stopping their ministrations against Clarke’s skin and making the artist pout, her eyes narrowing slightly at Bellamy in annoyance at the loss.

“Yes.” Lexa says, “We’re close.”

“So what’s her deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants to know if she’s planning on banging him anytime.” Raven drawls, receiving a sharp glare from Bellamy, “What?” she laughs, shaking her head, “Isn’t that basically the deal?”

“It’s not just about that-”

“It’s a little bit about that, though.” Raven presses teasingly.

Bellamy’s jaw tightens, his attention turning back to Lexa, “I’m just getting weird vibes from her.” He says, “One minute she likes me the next she hates me.”

“Well you tend to have that effect on people-” Raven pauses at the pissed off expression on Bellamy’s face, a grin tracing her lips, “Okay,” she raises her hands in mock-surrender, chuckling, “I’ll stop.”

Lexa smirks, amused by Raven’s teasing, “Anya is… selective, when it comes to the people she dates.”

Lincoln chuckles, nodding in agreement to Lexa’s statement, “She doesn’t have the greatest tolerance for people.” He says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her date anyone longer than a week.”

“Right.” Bellamy frowns, “So has she ever mentioned me?”

“Not really.” Lexa shrugs, “Not that I can recall, anyway.”

“You might have to cut your losses with this one, Bell.” Clarke says, sending her friend a sympathetic smile.

Bellamy shakes his head, an arrogant smile tracing his lips, “Never.” He says, “I’m always up for a challenge.”

Raven laughs, “Oh yeah? Well you better up your game, Casanova.” She quips, “This isn’t one of your usual sorority girls.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Raven shrugs innocently, “Just that you don’t exactly have the most diverse taste in girls, usually.”

“Like you would know-”

“And on that note,” Lincoln jumps up from his seat, sending Clarke and Lexa a humorous eye roll, “I’m going inside.”

Bellamy and Raven don’t acknowledge him, too busy getting into another heated bickering session, and Clarke happily zones out of her friends’ incessant arguing in favor of turning her attention to Lexa.

“Do they ever stop?” Lexa mumbles in Clarke’s ear.

“Not really, no.”

“How exhausting.”

Clarke chuckles, “You have no idea.”

“Do they even like each other?”

“A lot, actually. That’s my theory anyway. I think the arguing is their way of coping with it.” Clarke grins, “They slept together last year and they’ve been at each other’s throats ever since.”

“Right.” Lexa pauses, watching the pair at the end of the table, “That’s… odd.”

Clarke shrugs, “Feelings aren’t their forte.”

Lexa hums in response, her head burrowing into the crook of Clarke’s neck as she lets out a yawn, “I understand that.”

“So…” Clarke’s eyes fall to where her fingers brush against Lexa’s arm lightly.

She’s about to ask about the kiss. She considers it, anyway.

But somewhere during the process of getting the words off her tongue Clarke loses her nerve, choosing a different route.

“Does Bellamy have a chance with Anya?”

The chuckle that falls from Lexa’s lips brushes against Clarke’s ears, making shivers run down the blonde’s spine.

“She’s enjoying his company.” she says, “But I think that’s as far as it goes.”

“Shame.”

Lexa lets out a soft sigh, “I should get going.” She says eventually, “Tomorrow is game day.”

“Right.” Clarke nods, attempting to hide her disappointment and climbing off of Lexa’s lap.

Lexa bids the rest of the group a brief goodbye before Clarke walks her out, the blonde following her into the hallway outside the apartment.

“I can walk you back, if you’d like?” Clarke offers, dawdling at the door (and really just wanting an excuse to spend more time with Lexa).

“It’s barely even dark.” Lexa chuckles, “I think I’ll survive the walk.”

Clarke accepts the answer, leaning up against the doorframe and eyeing Lexa.

“But I’ll see you soon?” Lexa says, “It- uh… it was kind of weird not having you studying at mine last week.”

The admission makes Clarke smile, her good mood returning instantly, “Aw, did you miss me?” she teases, receiving an eye-roll from Lexa.

“Well it was a lot quieter.” The hockey player shrugs, “Somewhere along the line I got used to your constant interruptions.”

Clarke grins, “I guess I’ll have to stop by then.”

“I guess you will.”

The pair eye one another, Lexa wearing the same smile Clarke is realizing Lexa seems to have reserved for only her.

“Goodnight, Clarke.”

“Goodnight, Lexa.”

Lexa stands there for another beat, looking conflicted for a second before turning on her heel and heading down the hallway, leaving Clarke feeling just as confused as to where she stands as ever.

* * *

From Monday, things return to how they were before their fallout the previous week, which Clarke is thankful for. She goes back to spending her study time at Lexa’s apartment, the hockey player usually keeping her company in the space.

Although, not in the way Clarke would like.

The kiss isn’t mentioned. Hell, if Clarke didn’t have Raven as an eyewitness, she would think she’d just dreamt it up. But the lingering tension between them that seems to hang over their every conversation helps to assure her that it did in fact happen.

Lexa’s presence presses down on Clarke’s chest and she spends most of her study time just attempting not to stare at the girl who sits opposite her. It feels like a game; the pair dancing around one another and pretending they don’t know what the other girl’s lips feel like on their own.

The way Lexa holds herself around Clarke is different now, the blonde having noticed the switch on Tuesday afternoon. Instead of keeping her usual respectful distance from Clarke, Lexa lingers closer than necessary at any moment possible, almost as though she’s completely aware of just how much her close proximity manages to scramble Clarke’s brain.

She regards Clarke with a knowing smile all too often, and Clarke’s beginning to feel as though she’s in the middle of a game she never agreed to.

Friday afternoon finds Clarke in Lexa’s apartment, studying alone while Lexa is on a run. She’s in the process of washing up the mug and plate she used during the day when she hears Lexa return, the door opening and the sound of keys being dropped onto the countertop soon following.

When she looks over to greet Lexa, Clarke immediately regrets it.

Lexa’s covered in a thin layer of sweat, face flushed and toned, elegantly tattooed muscles on show thanks to that damn black sports bra. Her chest is still rising and falling heavily from the run, which only draws Clarke’s attention to her chest.

And well, there goes Clarke’s ability to focus on anything for the rest of the afternoon.

The athlete is oblivious to Clarke’s near drooling over her appearance, pulling her headphones out of her ears as she taps away on her phone distractedly. When she does look over and catch Clarke mid-leer, a smile toys at her lips.

“Would you like to draw another picture, Clarke?” She teases, immediately breaking Clarke out of her daze and receiving the biggest eye-roll the artist can muster.

“Jerk.” Clarke grumbles, feeling her cheeks heat up and turning her attention back to the sink.

She hears Lexa chuckle, feeling the girl’s body brush against her own as she moves past her in the kitchen. Clarke attempts to ignore the shivers that run down her spine at the touch.

“How is the report going?” Lexa asks, retrieving a cold bottle of water from the fridge.

“So far, I have a title.”

Lexa laughs softly, moving to lean back against the counter as she takes a large gulp from water the bottle, “I’m sure you’ll get there.”

Clarke eyes Lexa for a moment, hoping to gather some type of read on just what’s been going on in the other girl’s head this whole week. She’s unlucky in her efforts, as usual. Lexa, it seems, is particularly skilled in keeping an impenetrably cool composure.

Lexa returns Clarke’s stare, an amused quirk to her lips, “Are you feeling okay, Clarke?”

Clarke’s never analysed her name as much as she has since first hearing it roll off of Lexa’s tongue, polished and pronounced in a way that is unique to the hockey player.

“I’m fine.” Clarke counters defensively, “Are _you_ feeling okay?”

Lexa’s eyebrows rise at the response, “I suppose.”

Clarke’s eyes narrow but she doesn’t prompt Lexa any further when the other girl simply looks back at her with an air of superiority. Fine. If she wants to play this game, Clarke will play.

After all, _Lexa_ kissed _Clarke_. Not the other around. Clarke has the upper hand here.

Well, at least that what she figures, despite how out of depth she’s currently feeling under Lexa’s amused stare. It also doesn’t help that she’s dealing with a sweaty, minimally clothed Lexa.

Clarke can’t help when her eyes drop to Lexa’s bare stomach briefly, lingering just long enough for Lexa to catch her.

“So.” Clarke clears her throat, “There’s a party at Bellamy’s frat tonight.”

“Isn’t there one most weekends?”

Clarke grins, shrugging, “What is a frat without constant parties and partial nudity?”

“I assume you’ll be there, then.”

Clarke hums out a confirmation, “Not naked, but I’ll be there.” she says, “Will you?”

“Why? Would you like me there?”

Clarke doesn’t give Lexa the answer she’s attempting to bait out of her, holding the other girl’s gaze and remaining a stubborn silent. If Lexa wants to play a game of not-quite answers, Clarke will too. And she’ll win.

Hopefully.

(Let’s be honest, Clarke’s not sure _how_ strong her restraint is while she has Lexa’s bare abs right in front of her)

Lexa chuckles, “I have another party to go to.” She finally continues, “The men’s hockey team is hosting something.”

“A party full of jocks.” Clarke smirks, “Sounds fun.”

Lexa laughs softly, shrugging, “You’d be surprised.” She says, “I’m sure we could give your little frat parties a run for their money.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Lexa’s eyes narrow, her fingers tapping against the water bottle in her hands lightly, “You can come, if you like.” she says, “It’s not just for players.”

Clarke makes sure to hold back the triumphant smile that wants to break out at Lexa’s invite. She steps forward, enjoying the way Lexa seems to retreat at the action, the previously confident expression on her face now fading. “Is that your way of saying you want me there?”

Lexa’s back meets the counter as Clarke takes another step towards her, “Maybe.” She murmurs, swallowing hard as her eyes trace over Clarke’s features.

“You know you kissed me last week.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you?” Clarke tilts her head, “Because you haven’t mentioned it since.”

“Not everything needs to be discussed, Clarke.” Lexa quips, finding a bit more of a footing now and arching a brow, “You haven’t brought it up, either.”

“I’m bringing it up now.” Clarke points out, eyes never leaving Lexa’s (despite how tempting it is to glance down at the hockey player’s body – Clarke’s beginning to second guess getting so close).

“And why is that?”

“I don’t know.”

Lexa expels a shaky breath, her eyes falling to Clarke’s lips briefly and cheeks reddening when they move back up to meet Clarke’s gaze.

Clarke decides she likes Lexa when she’s like this; restless and lacking her usual calculated composure. After a week of being a nervous wreck around Lexa, it’s nice to feel like the one holding the reigns again.

“Clarke-”

“I wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to do it again.” Clarke continues, shrugging nonchalantly. She glances down to where the Lexa is still holding her water, the plastic on the bottle notably crunching underneath the tight grip Lexa has on it. She can’t help the smug smile that traces her lips over the fact that she’s finally gained the upper hand.

Lexa places her bottle on the counter, eyes staring into Clarke’s and jaw clenched, “Are you saying you’d like me to kiss you?”

Clarke grins, “I’m saying… I wouldn’t _stop_ you, if you did.” She answers politically.

“That’s not quite the answer I’m looking for.”

“Isn’t it?”

Lexa is watching Clarke with a level of annoyance swimming in her eyes, the hockey player’s competitive streak no doubt fighting with her to not let Clarke win this round of whatever the hell kind of game they’ve been playing.

“Would you like me to kiss you, Clarke?” Lexa asks again.

Clarke would think Lexa’s composure was still fairly intact, if it wasn’t for the way her eyes have been darting to Clarke’s lips every three seconds.

“I don’t know. Would _you_ like to kiss _me?_ ” Clarke responds smugly.

“What do you think?”

Clarke arches an eyebrow, grinning, “I think-”

Her words die on the tip of her tongue as Lexa gives in, hands threading through Clarke’s hair and roughly pulling the girl forward to meet her lips. Clarke is immediately pushing back into the kiss, her hands falling to Lexa’s bare waist and already wondering why she’s spent a week _not_ kissing Lexa, when it feels like this.

Her stomach jumps as Lexa’s tongue dips into her mouth and Clarke let’s out a soft moan, hips pushing against Lexa’s and hands sweeping over the girl’s taut abs.

Lexa’s hand leaves Clarke’s hair to cup the back of her neck, encouraging Clarke to move even closer (if that’s possible) so her body is flush against her own. Lexa’s other hand holds Clarke’s cheek delicately, a striking contrast to the other rough touches they’re delivering to one another.

Clarke’s teeth nibble on Lexa’s bottom lip and she swears she hears Lexa curse against her lips before the hockey player is increasing their pace. Clarke can’t remember the last time she felt this ignited by another person, her heart jumping with every brush of Lexa’s lips and her hands eagerly grazing along every part of Lexa’s skin available to her.

Desire rattles Clarke’s bones and everything is _Lexa_ , _Lexa, Lexa._ And honestly? Clarke’s pretty happy for it to stay like that, if she plans to keep kissing her like this.

Much to Clarke’s dismay, Lexa’s attention is stolen from her by the buzzing of the hockey player’s phone. The pair ignore it at first, the call eventually being sent to Lexa’s voicemail and Clarke attaining a soft moan from Lexa as she sucks on the girl’s tongue.

Then the phone starts ringing again and Clarke groans, pressing harder into the kiss in hopes Lexa will continue to ignore it, her hands refusing to move from where they have Lexa pinned against the kitchen counter.

Lexa reluctantly pulls away from the kiss eventually, her hands remaining cupping Clarke’s face and she looks over at her phone, recognizing the caller ID, “It’s Anya.”

“Great. Ignore it.” Clarke quips, leaning back in and capturing Lexa’s lips once more.

Lexa gives in for a moment, accepting the kiss, “She’ll just keep ringing.” She pants out against Clarke’s lips.

True to Lexa’s claim, the phone stops vibrating for only a second before it starts again, Lexa letting out an irritated huff and pulling away from Clarke, reaching over to her phone and swiping up the device.

Clarke remains in her spot, front flush against Lexa’s and watching the hockey player answer her phone.

“ _What_?” Lexa bites out, eyes focused on Clarke and emitting a soft laugh from the girl at her stressed tone.

Lexa is quiet as she presumably listens to whatever urgent message Anya has to deliver to her, and Clarke takes the opportunity to make the most of the generous amount of bare skin pressed against her currently.

“Um- what do- I mean… sorry?” Lexa stammers, taking a sharp breath as Clarke’s fingers brush over the tattoo on her hip, “… great.”

Clarke looks up, finding dark green eyes watching her every movement and grinning, knuckles sweeping over abs and enjoying the way Lexa seems to shiver under her touch.

“What- no, I’m listening.” Lexa snaps, “Okay, Anya.” She huffs, “Whatever.” Lexa’s free hand catches one of Clarke’s, the athlete sending Clarke a look of warning, “Okay, fine.” She mumbles, “Talk later.”

Clarke’s sure Anya doesn’t even get to say goodbye before Lexa has hung up and is leaning in to capture Clarke’s lips with her own once more.

This time, however, Clarke is the one to pull away, a smug smile tracing her lips and hands pushing lightly at Lexa’s stomach to keep her from leaning in again.

Lexa looks at her in utter confusion, almost resembling a puppy that’s had it’s favorite toy snatched away from them.

Clarke’s tongue runs across her bottom lip and she takes a step back from Lexa, “I guess I should get going.” She declares, walking over to the table and beginning to collect her things.

Lexa watches her the whole time, brow furrowed when Clarke turns back around, walking over and coming to a stop in front of Lexa before she leaves.

Lexa’s face is still flushed from the make out session, wild eyes tracing over Clarke’s features and filled with an unspoken plea to continue.

But Clarke resists her own urge to revisit their previous activity, because Lexa’s been playing this game all week and now _Clarke’s_ the one winning. And if she’s learnt anything being the friend of Raven Reyes, it’s to always leave them wanting more.

So Clarke clears her throat, sparing one lingering look over Lexa before offering the girl an innocent smile, “Have fun at your party.” she sings, walking past Lexa and heading towards the door, “Maybe I’ll stop by.”

And then she leaves, patting herself on the back when she glances back inside the apartment before closing the door, finding Lexa still standing baffled at the kitchen counter.

Checkmate, Lexa Woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So the party coming up was supposed to be in this chapter but it ended up getting big lmao so I’ve split it in two. Thank you to everyone who has left comments/kudos! You guys are all so lovely, it’s so nice writing for you! :3 I really appreciate you leaving your thoughts (esp. those of you who go the extra mile to talk about it! I love hearing what you think of specific parts)  
> Anyway hopefully I won’t keep you waiting long for the next chap. Let me know what you thought of this one! You can also find me on my tumblr which has now had a url change to debnamridley. See ya next time :)


	6. Chapter 6

The party at Bellamy’s is, as expected, the same as usual.

People are intoxicated before even arriving and Clarke kicks off her night drinking and dancing with her friends. Although, tonight Clarke’s mind is far from the heavy dance music and familiar faces buzzing about the house, instead barely venturing from a certain hockey player.

She checks her phone an embarrassing amount of times to determine whether it’s too early to ditch Bellamy’s and head to the address Lexa provided her with. She decides to wait and see if Lexa will text her about her whereabouts, curious to see whether the girl was 100% serious when she extended her invite to Clarke.

It’s also probably best to keep playing it cool, she doesn’t want to come across _too_ eager to see Lexa (although Clarke’s just about as eager as she gets).

The party quickly bores her thanks to the constant thought of where she could be and who she could be with instead, and Clarke eventually departs the dance floor and makes her way out to the back lawn. She spots Monty up ahead, the boy sat on a lawn chair and wearing a distant expression. Based on the lack of copious snacks in his lap, Clarke guesses this isn’t due to Monty’s favorite not-quite legal activity.

“ _You_ look painfully sober.” Clarke says as she approaches, falling down onto the lawn chair next to Monty and looking to her friend with a soft smile, “What’s up with the sulking?”

Monty sighs, looking down at the cup in his hand and swirling around the beer absentmindedly, “I’m trying to pace myself.”

“Ah, I see.” Clarke nods in understanding, “How’s that working for you?”

It’s probably a smart move on Monty’s behalf, seeing as the last time he drank heavily in close proximity of Jasper, things didn’t exactly end well for him.

Monty chuckles, taking a sip of his beer, “Not great. I don’t think anyone’s supposed to witness a frat party sober.”

Clarke scrunches up her nose, “Agreed.” She laughs, proceeding to dust off her own cup of cheap beer. As she does so she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket, the blonde moving (maybe too quickly) to retrieve it and grinning when she finds a message from Lexa waiting for her.

**_Lexa: How’s the frathouse?_ **

“What’s that smile for?”

Clarke looks up from her phone, finding Monty watching her with an amused expression, “Nothing.” She mumbles, typing out her response to Lexa.

**_Clarke: Nothing out of the norm. How are the jocks?_ **

Monty laughs, rolling his eyes, “Sure.”

The blonde sends her friend a playful glare, looking back to her phone when the device vibrates in her palm again.

**_Lexa: Fine._ **

**_Lexa: You should stop by._ **

**_Clarke: Do you want me to?_ **

Clarke’s mind was already made up the moment Lexa suggested she make an appearance that afternoon, but she figures she shouldn’t let it seem _that_ easy for Lexa.

**_Lexa: I invited you, didn’t I?_ **

**_Clarke: Well what happens if I do show up?_ **

**_Lexa: Guess you’ll have to show up to find out._ **

A soft laugh falls from Clarke’s lips and she looks over to Monty, finding the boy looking relatively bored with the current events of the night. She stretches her leg out to kick him lightly, bringing him back to reality and offering her friend a playful smile, “Wanna go somewhere else?”

That seems to spark Monty’s interest, “Do you even have to ask?” he grins, “Where?”

Clarke considers hiding her motivations to save face. If it were anyone else she probably would (because god do her friends love teasing each other). But it’s Monty, and she figures he deserves _some_ dirt on her to even out the playing field.

“Lexa invited me to another party.”

“Ah, your mystery texter.” Monty nods, “I thought so.”

“Shut up.” Clarke laughs, “Are you in?”

Monty ponders it for a moment, glancing over the party as though attempting to determine the likelihood of him enjoying himself if he stays. Eventually, he shrugs, “Yeah, sure.” He says, “A change of scenery sounds nice.”

Clarke decides to keep their exit quiet, knowing Bellamy will have her head if she hijacks the rest of their friends for another party, and decides she’ll send Octavia and Raven a text with her whereabouts after she and Monty have made their escape.

Of course, this plan is foiled by Raven, who catches them on their way out. Clarke and Monty are walking across the front lawn when the mechanic comes running up to them, an excited grin on her face and forcing the pair to a stop.

“And where are _you_ two going?” Raven asks, arms crossed in front of her chest and arching her eyebrows at her friends.

“Some other party Clarke’s invited to.” Monty answers before Clarke can deliver a lie.

“Another party?” Raven grins, looking to Clarke, “Whose?”

Clarke can’t help the slight pout on her lips at being caught out, and she shrugs in an attempt to remain nonchalant, “Some hockey player’s.” she mumbles out.

“As in the same one you’ve been playing tonsil hockey with lately?”

Rolling her eyes, Clarke lets out a frustrated breath, “It’s one of her friend’s.”

“And you were about to leave without inviting _me_?” Raven wears a faux offended expression, “Here I thought you cared about me.”

“You can come.” Clarke rolls her eyes, “Just keep your mouth shut, I don’t want the whole group crashing the party.”

Raven laughs, “You bet.” She says, hooking her arm through Clarke’s, “Besides, no offense to Monty here but I’m the best wingman out. No way are you getting into Lexa’s pants without my help.”

Clarke groans loudly, pulling Raven along with her so the trio begins walking down the sidewalk, on route to the next party, “I don’t know where you got that idea.” She says dryly, “You can’t even get _yourself_ laid.”

* * *

 

When Clarke, Monty and Raven eventually arrive at the party, the difference in the vibes is already obvious. There’s no obnoxious shirtless frat boys at the front door asking for an ‘entry fee’, and the music is more relaxed as opposed to the usual EDM playing at Bellamy’s.

The party is a lot smaller, and Clarke assumes the majority of the people in attendance are hockey players or people linked to the players in some way. It’s a more comfortable size and less chaotic than what Clarke’s used to, everyone enjoying one another’s company and split up throughout the house and out onto the lawn.

There’s no sign of Lexa, though, and Clarke’s about to drag her friends out to the back to search for her when she finally spots a familiar face in Anya.

Lexa’s teammate laughs when she sees Clarke, approaching the trio with a smirk, “Well this is a surprise.”

Clarke smiles in greeting, “Hey, Anya.”

“I’m guessing Lexa invited you?”

“Yeah.” Clarke answers hesitantly, “Is that okay?”

Anya shrugs, “Sure, it’s not my party.” She chuckles, taking a swig of her drink and regarding Clarke with a knowing expression, “You know she doesn’t shut up about you, right?”

Clarke hears Raven snicker next to her, “I guess now I do.” She mumbles, cheeks red.

“So are you two a thing?”

Clarke is taken aback by the blunt question, meeting Anya’s gaze and getting the sense that the hockey player is either messing with her or testing her.

“Are you and _Bellamy_ a thing?” she counters.

The other girl’s eyebrows rise in surprise at Clarke’s response, an impressed smirk then tracing her lips, “Fair play.” She laughs, shaking her head, “We’re not, though. At least I’m not aware of it.” Anya waves her free hand, gesturing for the trio to follow her, “Come on, let’s get you guys some drinks then.”

Monty sends Clarke an encouraging smile while Raven just laughs at her friend and follows Anya, the hockey player leading them into the kitchen.

There are two other girls in the kitchen; one blonde and one brunette. Clarke recognizes them as Lexa’s teammates, both girls laughing with one another and attention turning to Anya when she reaches them.

“Guys, this is Clarke…” Anya turns to the trio of friends, looking to Monty and Raven with a frown, “Wait who are you?”

“Oh- I’m Monty.” Monty outstretches a hand to Anya stiffly, receiving an arched eyebrow from the hockey player and emitting an amused snort from Raven next to him.

Anya shakes his hand anyway, letting out a laugh at Monty’s red-faced embarrassment, “Right.”

Raven watches the exchange with a grin, “I’m Raven.” She says when Anya looks to her, the mechanic choosing not to take part in Monty’s formal greeting methods and just nodding at the three girls in front of her.

“Right.” Anya nods, “Well this is Niylah and Ontari. They’re on the hockey team.” She gestures to the girls next to her.

“You guys want something to drink?” Ontari asks, nodding to where a decent collection of spirits and mixers sits on the island between them.

Clarke doesn’t need any more prompting, happily accepting the drink Niylah prepares for her and eager to kick her nerves.

Raven soon spots the beer pong table outside, her eyes shining with competitive excitement, “So,” she starts, “Which one of you is the best at beer pong?”

“I’ll play you.” Ontari immediately offers, “Are you any good?”

Raven scoffs, taking a large gulp of her drink before stepping forward, her hand resting on Ontari’s shoulder, “You’re about to find out.”

“How about pairs?” Anya suggests, “I feel like a game.”

“Fine by me. Monty’s mine.”

“Hey!” Clarke looks at Raven with an offended expression, “Why not me?”

“Sorry, princess.” Raven hooks her arm around Monty’s neck playfully, grinning at the boy, “Monty’s got the bigger brain.”

Ontari, Anya and Niylah frown as they move outside, Raven pulling Monty along with her while Clarke walks with the hockey players.

“What’s beer pong got to do with your _brain_?”

“Physics.” Monty and Raven chime in at the same time, Clarke rolling her eyes as she follows her friends out onto the porch.

“Trust me.” Clarke starts, meeting Anya’s confused gaze, “Don’t ask them for an explanation.”

Anya tosses Raven a bunch of cups as she begins to set her end of the table up for the game, Clarke coming to stand at the side with Niylah. Ontari and Monty fill up the cups on their respective sides with beer, Raven mumbling to Monty about what Clarke presumes is tactics that are way too thought-out for a drinking game.

Down on the lawn is a group of people playing a small game of hockey, a few of them notably more drunk than the others. Based on the rough plays Clarke assumes all of them are generally ignoring the usual rules of their favored sport, instead battling out one another in an effort to see who can play the dirtiest. Clarke’s not surprised when she finds Lexa amongst the players.

“Lexa!” Anya yells, “You’ve got a visitor.”

Lexa’s head snaps up, a wide smile tracing her lips when her eyes fall on Clarke. Unfortunately for her, the moment her attention leaves the game she finds her legs swept out from underneath her and her ass promptly hitting the ground hard, the boy that caused the fall letting out a loud laugh as Lexa flips him off angrily.

Clarke grins, laughing when Lexa’s eyes find her own again, an embarrassed expression on the hockey player’s face.

“Please tell me someone was recording that.” Anya snorts, shaking her head in disbelief and turning her attention back to the beer pong.

Once Lexa has gathered herself she heads over to Clarke, face bright red.

“Very graceful, there.” Clarke teases, meeting Lexa halfway.

Lexa rolls her eyes, “It was a cheap shot.” She grumbles, fighting off a smile, “How long have you been here?”

“Not long.” Clarke shrugs, “Raven’s already challenged your friends in beer pong.”

Lexa chuckles, glancing behind Clarke, “You didn’t think to warn them of what happened to me last time?”

“And ruin Raven’s fun? Never.”

“I’m surprised you showed up.” Lexa says, leaning forward on her hockey stick.

“Well you did talk a big game about your parties. Curiosity got the better of me.”

A smirk tugs at Lexa’s lips, “Hopefully it lives up to your expectations.”

“Hopefully.”

“Woods!”

Clarke’s eyes dart to where one of the boys playing hockey is looking to Lexa, the girl in front of her turning around at her surname.

“What?”

“Quit flirting with Blondie and get your ass back in the game!”

Lexa waves him off, turning back to Clarke, “Sorry.” She grumbles, “The teams made a bet. They’re taking it seriously.”

“Go ahead.” Clarke laughs, “I kind of want to see who wins this beer pong game anyway.”

Lexa grins, nodding, “It’s only first to five, I’ll make it quick.”

“You have control over that?”

A smug smile traces Lexa’s lips at that, “I’m quite a talented player, Clarke.”

“Uh huh.” Clarke laughs, rolling her eyes and shoving Lexa away from her, “Well try not to let your enormous head get in the way.”

“I’ll do my best.” Lexa quips, turning on her heel and jogging back over to the small game.

Clarke rejoins the group on the porch, rolling her eyes when she receives a wink from Raven and returning to her spot next to Niylah.

She barely pays attention to the game of beer pong (despite having genuinely been interested to begin with), because Lexa makes it kind of impossible to look at anything but her.

Clarke does her best to keep her blatant staring to a minimum though, laughing whenever the group of friends at the table laugh and just taking their word for it that whatever occurred was indeed funny.

Lexa is notably distracted as well, Clarke catching her looking right back at her more than once throughout the game. This leads to Lexa making a number of mistakes that (based on the annoyed reaction of her friends playing with her), isn’t a common occurrence for the athlete.

It’s not just Lexa’s eyes that keep straying to Clarke, though, the artist eventually noticing the attention she’s receiving from Niylah. When Clarke returns her stare Niylah doesn’t seem embarrassed by being caught in the act, simply offering Clarke a small smile and stepping closer to her.

“I’ve seen you before.” Niylah states eventually, eyes now firmly on Clarke, “Didn’t you watch us practice a while back?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Clarke lets out a soft laugh, “That would be me.”

Niylah smiles, watching Clarke take a sip of her drink, “You’re friends with Lexa?”

Clarke pauses, unsure exactly what she _is_ to Lexa. Usually Clarke doesn’t make a habit of making out with her ‘friends’.

“… yeah.” She nods, deciding to go with the easier answer, “Her roommate is dating one of my best friends.” Clarke laughs as Monty sinks a ball into one of the cups on the other side of the table, Raven mocking Anya and Ontari as their opponents decide who has to drink.

“That’s Octavia, right?”

“That’s the one.” Clarke confirms, glancing back to the hockey game briefly.

“So, do you play anything?” Niylah asks then, hip resting against the table and full attention on Clarke.

Clarke laughs at that, shaking her head, “No. Sports aren’t my thing.”

Well, they’re beginning to be.

But that’s more to do with how Lexa looks before, during and after exercise. And how great an invention sports bras are.

“Oh.” Niylah tilts her head curiously, “You look like you’re in shape, though.”

Clarke pauses, eyes meeting Niylah’s and brow furrowing slightly, “Um, thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

Clarke’s not entirely sure how to react to the hockey player, seeing as being hit on by someone other than Lexa tonight hadn’t really been on her agenda.

She talks to the girl for a while longer anyway, deciding to ignore the flirtatiousness in the other blonde’s tone and pointedly keeping a distance between them whenever Niylah moves that little bit closer. Because this is one of Lexa’s friends, right? Surely Niylah’s just overly friendly.

Although when Lexa does finally finish her game it becomes clear that ‘friends’ might be a loose term to describe her and Niylah.

Clarke doesn’t notice Lexa until the hockey player appears at her side, hand settling on the small of Clarke’s back and remaining there even after Clarke has greeted her.

When she catches the unimpressed look Lexa is sending Niylah, Clarke realizes why. Lexa’s blatant efforts of intimidation are successful as Niylah awkwardly dawdles over to the other side of the table, the blonde hockey player suddenly looking enthralled in the game of beer pong happening.

Clarke grins, getting a kick out of Lexa’s blatant jealousy, “How’d the game go?”

Lexa’s eyes linger on Niylah for a beat longer, her jaw clenching, “We won.” She says, “What were you talking to Niylah about?”

“Nothing, really. She was just making conversation.” Clarke shrugs.

“Cool.”

Clarke’s eyes narrow, a soft laugh falling from her lips, “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke chuckles, keeping her voice low to avoid being overhead, “Do you not like her or something?”

“I don’t have an opinion.” Lexa answers, her attempt at indifference failing her.

“Aren’t you teammates?”

“I’m her captain.” Lexa says, a slight edge to her voice, “We’re not particularly friends.”

“Wait, you’re the captain?”

Lexa arches an eyebrow, “Is that a surprise?”

“I thought Anya was.”

“No. I am.”

“Huh.” Clarke nods, “Interesting.”

A confused smile traces Lexa’s lips, her stiff posture finally relaxing, “Interesting?”

“Yeah.”

Clarke leaves out the part where she might just be a little more attracted to Lexa after finding that out. She also scolds herself for being turned on by the thought of Lexa in a position of power.

Lexa is apparently past her brief moment of irritation over Niylah, the athlete turning to Clarke with an unreadable expression and taking a sip from her drink.

“Want to play a game?” she asks eventually.

Clarke tilts her head, interest piqued, “Sure.” She says, “So long as it’s not hockey.”

Lexa grins, “Why can’t it be hockey?”

“I can’t win that.”

“What if I promise to go easy on you?”

“Nope.”

A soft laugh falls from Lexa’s lips, “Okay.” She nods easily, “How are you at pool?”

That makes Clarke grin, the blonde nodding, “I can work with that.”

“I won’t go easy on you, though.”

Clarke laughs, nudging Lexa playfully, “Don’t worry, I won’t need it.”

* * *

 

The pool table is located in the den of the house and when Clarke and Lexa make their way down there the place is populated with a smaller number of people, most of them those that were playing hockey. Lexa introduces Clarke to everyone and Clarke’s surprised by the warm greeting she receives.

When they begin their first game some of Lexa’s friends watch, chatting amongst one another and making Clarke feel a lot more comfortable than she expected to feel coming into Lexa’s inner circle.

Lexa is different like this; surrounded by her own select group of friends, comfortable and holding herself with an air of confidence that is almost intimidating. Her small stature does nothing to make her look weaker in the company of her larger, more rugged friends. In fact, when Lexa _does_ offer contribution to their conversation all eyes are on her, feeding off of her mood and looking like they’d take orders from the girl without a bat of an eyelid.

“I’m beginning to think you’re just showing off now.”

As it turns out, Clarke’s a worthy competitor for Lexa when it comes to pool, and boy, is Clarke loving seeing the pout that forms on Lexa’s lips every time she successfully sinks another ball.

They’re onto their second game now, Clarke having won the first and Lexa being too competitive to let the loss go without a rematch.

“ _You_ didn’t think I’d be any good.” Clarke states, grinning as she moves to position her next shot, making sure to brush against Lexa as she passes her.

“I didn’t think you’d be _this_ good.” Lexa corrects, rolling her eyes as Clarke sinks another ball, “Did you live in a bar growing up or something?” she huffs.

Clarke laughs, shaking her head, “No.” she smirks, “But I do have a pool table at home.”

The face Lexa makes at the reveal emits a louder laugh from Clarke, and she decides to take pity on the hockey player and throw her next shot.

“You did that on purpose.” Lexa drawls after the purposeful miss.

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did.”

Clarke is about to respond when Lexa’s attention is pulled away from her, the girl’s eyes focused on where Monty and Raven have entered the den. She takes Clarke by surprise when she walks over to the pair, going and greeting them with an enthusiasm that Clarke is assuming is due to the alcohol running through her system.

Clarke decides to simply observe, watching curiously as Lexa soon calls a boy she doesn’t recognize over to her and introduces him to the pair. Lexa doesn’t remain there much longer before she returns to the pool table, leaving the boy behind with Monty and Raven and wearing a small smile.

“What was that?” Clarke asks when Lexa reaches her, arching an eyebrow at the girl.

“What?”

“ _That.”_ Clarke laughs, nodding to where her friends talk with the boy, “Are you trying to set Raven up?”

“Raven?” Lexa frowns, looking back at the trio briefly, “Miller’s gay.”

“Oh.” Clarke pauses, understanding then washing over her face, _“Oh.”_

Lexa grins, shrugging and saying nothing, simply going to make her next shot.

“Lexa Woods the matchmaker.” Clarke grins, following Lexa around the table.

“I like Monty.” Lexa says simply, leaning over the table and lining up her shot. She rolls her eyes in annoyance when she fails to sink the ball again, straightening back up, “I just thought he might like to meet Miller.”

A soft smile traces Clarke’s lips at that, “That’s nice.” She says sincerely, eyes darting down to Lexa’s lips briefly. If she didn’t already want to kiss Lexa, she wants to even more now.

“Let’s make this more interesting.” Clarke murmurs then, feeling slightly bolder thanks to the extra shot she poured into her last drink.

“What do you want to do?”

“If I sink that ball, you have to kiss me.”

Lexa fights a grin, “Why am I always the one to kiss you?”

Clarke chuckles, shrugging, “Fine. If I get this shot, I have to kiss you.” She concedes, “Happy?”

The hockey player waits a moment, looking as though she’s pondering the proposal before shrugging nonchalantly, “I guess I can allow it.”

Clarke smiles widely, turning her attention to the table. She can feel Lexa’s eyes on her as she calculates her next move brow furrowing when ( _god fucking dammit)_ there’s no easy shot for her to make.

“Having trouble, Clarke?” Lexa asks teasingly.

Clarke ignores her, deciding on the angle that offers her the best chance and moving past Lexa to line up her shot. After scrutinizing the angle Clarke eventually takes the shot, cue hitting the white ball and sending it towards her target, colliding with the red striped ball. Clarke almost groans outwardly in frustration when the ball doesn’t find its mark, missing the hole in the table by inches.

“How tragic.” Lexa drawls, looking highly amused by the outcome, “Guess I’m not being kissed tonight.”

Clarke grins, stepping away from the table, “We’ll see.” She answers confidently, shrugging, “Your turn now. If you get the next shot, what do I have to do?”

“I’m still deciding.”

“I’ve got an idea!”

Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven’s voice, turning to find her friend watching her with an amused smile, the mechanic leant up against the wall with Anya and Ontari right at her side.

Lexa (not aware of Raven’s long history in enjoying Clarke’s humiliation) arches an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“If you sink your next shot, Clarke has to do a shot. Off you.”

“And vice versa if she misses it.” Ontari adds in, grinning at Raven, “Lexa takes a shot if she misses.”

Clarke freezes, looking to Lexa who looks equally as stumped by the suggestion.

“Um- I don’t- I mean-”

“Come on, Princess. It’ll be fun. It’s not like you haven’t done one before.” Raven grins, “I mean if you won’t be a willing body I’m sure someone else will-”

“I’ll do it.” Clarke blurts, receiving a surprised look from Lexa in return, “What? It’s no big deal.”

Lexa pauses, eventually shrugging and keeping a cool expression (although her posture remains stiff as a board), “Okay, then.” She says, “Fine.”

“That’s the spirit.” Raven pushes off the wall, excitement clear on her features. “Time liven things up a bit.”

Ontari and Anya go upstairs to retrieve the needed items, returning with a bottle of tequila, salt and some lime wedges.

Most of the people in the den are gathering near the pool table now, Clarke rolling her eyes are the sheer excitement on the faces of some of the men in the circle. When Raven pours her a shot for ‘nerves’ she happily tosses it back.

“Take your shot, Captain.” Anya smirks, nudging her friend towards the table.

Lexa glares at the girl, letting out a sigh and looking at the remaining balls on the table.

Clarke’s not even sure what outcome she’d prefer; Lexa doing a shot off of her or doing a shot off of Lexa. Chances are she’s not going to survive either.

Lexa’s face is the image of concentration as she lines up her cue, ignoring the teasing heckling from her friends and taking the shot.

She misses, and Clarke freezes- because _she’s now moments away from having Lexa’s tongue on her stomach._

_(This definitely isn’t the situation Clarke imagined this first happening – not that she’s imagined it before)_

Lexa is avoiding Clarke’s eyes, walking over to where Raven is waving the bottle of tequila at her teasingly.

“… we need a shot glass.” Lexa drawls as she swipes the bottle from Raven’s hand.

“No shot glasses, sorry.” Ontari grins wickedly, “None of that PG-13 shit here.”

Lexa’s eyes narrow at Ontari, her jaw tightening. She doesn’t fight her though (to Clarke’s surprise), and turns to Clarke with an expectant expression.

It takes Clarke a beat to realize what she’s supposed to be doing- having been a little distracted by the realization that in moments from now she’s going to have Lexa’s tongue on her skin.

“Oh. Right.” Clarke blushes, reaching down and pulling her shirt over her head.

She hops up onto the pool table and drops her shirt to her side, and when her attention turns back to Lexa she finds the hockey player’s eyes comically wide.

“Lexa?”

Lexa’s eyes snap to Clarke’s, her cheeks reddening, “Uh…”, she swallows, nodding, “Yeah, okay.” She mumbles, picking up the salt and lime wedges and walking over to Clarke, setting them down on the table.

Clarke is resting back on her arms, watching Lexa as green eyes trace over her bare stomach, the hockey player fiddling with the small saltshaker.

She meets Clarke’s stare then, looking hesitant, “We don’t have to-”

“No.” Clarke answers (maybe too quickly), “I mean… it’s just fun, right?”

Why is she this nervous? She’s done body shots enough times in her life, this is no different. Except this is Lexa. And it’s _Lexa’s_ tongue that’s going to be sucking tequila and licking salt off of her stomach. And well… okay sign her right up.

Clarke swipes up the lime wedge from the plate and lies on her back, “Ready when you are.” She says, offering Lexa a grin that gives away her own anxiousness.

Lexa goes to place the salt on her own hand only to have Raven groan loudly behind her.

“Put it on her stomach!” Raven yells, receiving cheers of agreement.

Clarke doesn’t say anything, just watching and waiting for Lexa to make her own decision.

Lexa does as she’s told, hesitantly stepping closer so she’s next to Clarke’s body. She leans down, and Clarke’s breath hitches as her tongue meets her skin. Lexa doesn’t meet Clarke’s eyes when she pulls back, face bright red as she sprinkles salt over the wet area.

Clarke’s stomach is tensed as she watches Lexa pick up the bottle of tequila, the athlete tilting it carefully to pour the shot. Clarke’s barely aware of the teasing calls of the people around them as the liquid collects in her navel, spilling slightly around it. She bites down a bit harder on the lime between her lips, mouth close to dropping open as Lexa steps in-between her legs. She sees Lexa lick her lips, swallowing hard and glancing to Clarke briefly before she leans back in.

Her tongue sweeps up the salt first before meeting the tequila, sucking up the liquid and tongue dipping into Clarke’s navel as she collects every last drop of it. Clarke’s face feels like it’s on fire, her hands balled into fists and blue eyes never leaving Lexa as the hockey player then moves forward to collect the lime in Clarke’s mouth.

Lexa leans in, her teeth closing over the lime but not pulling it away from Clarke, instead sucking the juice from it while it remains between Clarke’s teeth.

Clarke’s eyes remain firmly on Lexa as she does so, and Clarke almost drops the lime out of surprise over the action. But then Lexa’s hand cups the back of her neck and keeps her in place, and _holy shit_ this is kind of really hot.

And then Lexa’s pulling away and Clarke has to hold back the temptation to yank her back towards her, the artist taking a few seconds before she realizes she can drop the lime from her mouth.

Words are apparently lost on her as she watches Lexa with wide eyes.

Lexa lingers for a moment, eyes glancing down to Clarke’s lips before she clears her throat and steps back, turning around and offering Raven, Anya and Ontari a bored expression, “Happy?

Anya laughs, shrugging, “Not as happy as you.” She smirks, “But I’m satisfied.”

* * *

 

Clarke and Lexa don’t get a chance to finish their game of pool, the table promptly hijacked by everyone else who decides they want to take part in body shots. The night just seems to get rowdier from there on, and Clarke’s beginning to question just how straight Raven is with how many body shots she’s been exchanging with Anya.

They even manage to talk Monty into one, and when the boy laughs with Miller about it afterwards, bright-faced but refreshingly comfortable in the different environment, Clarke reminds herself to thank Lexa.

Speaking of the hockey player, Clarke’s finding that the more alcohol she drinks, the less she’s able to stifle the urge to grab the girl and kiss the hell out of her.

She doesn’t last too long before she wonders why the fuck she’s even practicing restraint anyway and seeks Lexa out amongst the groups of people. It’s apparent that the mostly everyone at the party has moved to the den, the space a lot more crowded than before.

Eventually Clarke locates Lexa, finding the girl leant up against a wall and talking with Anya and a few other people. Lexa spots Clarke as she’s approaching, a smile tugging at her lips when Clarke comes to lean against the wall next to her.

“Where’ve you been?” Lexa asks, taking a sip from the bottle of beer in her hand.

Clarke grins, shrugging, “Around.” She answers, turning so she faces Lexa, shoulder resting against the wall now, “Have you been looking for me?”

Lexa chuckles, allowing Clarke to pluck the beer out of her hand and watching as Clarke drinks from it, “Maybe.”

Clarke swallows the mouthful of beer, handing the bottle back over to Lexa and wearing a playful smile, “So… Niylah’s very friendly.”

That makes Lexa’s brow furrow, annoyance flashing across her features, “Is she?”

“You know, you were acting kind of jealous before.” Clarke says teasingly, “When I was talking to her.”

“Was I?”

Clarke grins, “You know I came here for you, right?” she says, reaching out so her finger hooks through the belt loop in Lexa’s jeans, “So if you _were_ jealous, there’d be no reason for it.”

Lexa scoffs, shaking her head, “I wasn’t jealous.” She says, “She’s second string, anyway.” There’s a slight slur to her voice, and Clarke grins at the memory of Lexa’s past drunken attempts to one-up Finn, “I’m the captain.”

Clarke smirks, “Just a little bit defensive, there.”

“What? I’m just saying. She’s not that impressive.”

“And you are.”

“You said it.” Lexa quips, green eyes dropping to Clarke’s lips briefly. She licks her own, letting out a breath.

“What’re you thinking?”

An amused smile traces Lexa’s lips, the hockey player finishing the rest of her drink before focusing on Clarke again, “That I’m bored of sharing you.”

Clarke doesn’t pull away when Lexa reaches down to link her fingers with her own, and she happily follows when the athlete leads her through the groups of people and towards the stairs.

It’s quieter once they’re upstairs and Clarke’s suddenly much more aware of Lexa, no one else around to distract her from the girl’s intoxicating presence or make her feel like maybe she _shouldn’t_ give into her desires so easily.

Clarke will admit that she’s a little bit disappointed when Lexa leads her to the kitchen, but the hockey player is oblivious as she drops Clarke’s hands and walks over to the cooler.

While she waits Clarke hops up on the counter, watching as Lexa searches through the half-melted ice in hopes of more beer. Her eyes soon fall on the leftover limes from when Anya and Ontari must have prepared them earlier, a smirk tracing her lips as an idea comes to mind.

“Are you having fun?” Lexa asks when she finally locates two bottles of beer, approaching Clarke and coming to stand in-between the girl’s legs.

Clarke accepts the bottle from Lexa, “I am.” She answers honestly, smiling, “I like your friends.”

A proud smile traces Lexa’s lips, “I told you our parties were fun.”

“That you did.” Clarke hums, peering about the kitchen, “So, I was thinking… I kind of owe you a shot.”

Lexa pauses, letting out a soft laugh, “What do you mean?”

Clarke shrugs innocently, “Well, we never finished our game, so no one won.” She says, “It seems unfair that you had to do a shot when I didn’t.”

“You want to take a shot off of me?”

“It would be fair.”

“This is just an excuse to get me shirtless.” Lexa says, eyebrows rising in challenge.

“I see you shirtless every time you go for a run.” Clarke rolls her eyes, “I’m just _saying_ , we should probably even the playing field.”

Lexa watches Clarke, fighting a smile, “Okay.” She agrees eventually, “Fine.”

Clarke’s not prepared for Lexa to step back so soon, the athlete ridding herself of her shirt and offering Clarke a challenging look.

“Well?” Lexa coaxes, retrieving the near-empty bottle of tequila on the counter and locating some salt, handing the items over to Clarke, “Let’s even the playing field, then.”

Clarke nods dumbly, sliding off the counter so that Lexa can climb onto it, the other girl retrieving a lime before lying down on it.

Clarke intends to just innocently lean over Lexa at first, but then the alcohol-fueled part of her decides ‘fuck it’ and she hops up onto the counter with Lexa, straddling the girl’s hips so she has the perfect vantage point.

“You know someone could walk in any moment, Clarke.” Lexa states, voice wavering slightly.

“Your point? Everyone downstairs has seen at _least_ six people shirtless tonight.” Clarke smirks, “I can get off you though, if you want me to.”

Lexa licks her lips, throat bobbing as she swallows hard, “… no. This is fine.”

“I thought so.”

Clarke doesn’t wait any longer to lick a line up Lexa’s stomach, feeling Lexa shiver under her touch and grinning when she pulls back and applies the salt. In her intoxicated state, she almost forgets completely about the shot, distracted by the fact that she currently has a shirtless Lexa beneath her.

“Clarke?” Lexa says eventually, bringing her back to reality.

Clarke grins, tilting her head, “Getting impatient?”

Whatever smartass response Lexa was no doubt ready to deliver is lost when Clarke promptly swipes up the bottle of tequila, pouring the alcohol over Lexa’s navel and admiring the way it spreads over toned muscles.

Lexa places the lime in-between her teeth in preparation, hands resting behind her head as she peers down at Clarke with dark eyes.

When Clarke leans in again she nips teasingly at Lexa’s tattooed hip, eyes trained on the other girl, and then her tongue swipes over the salt before she makes her way to the tequila, hearing Lexa take a sharp breath as her lips brush against her skin and suck up the remaining liquid. Clarke grins at the way Lexa’s stomach muscles jump under her touch when she pulls back and runs her fingers down her skin lightly.

Lexa’s gaze is locked on Clarke as the blonde shifts further up her lap, eventually leaning in to take the lime. Clarke decides to follow Lexa’s earlier methods, cupping the back of the hockey player’s neck and sucking on the fruit while Lexa keeps hold of it.

Clarke doesn’t even get a chance to finish the lime before Lexa’s pulling it from between them and crashing their lips together, hand burying in blonde locks and pulling Clarke closer to her.

Of course, Clarke’s not about to complain, because Lexa’s lips totally beat the lime.

She slides back in Lexa’s lap as the hockey player sits up, lips moving against one another’s hard and eager. Clarke’s hands are settled on Lexa’s stomach, nails running across skin and eventually emitting a soft laugh from the girl.

“You’re tickling me, Clarke”

Clarke grins into the kiss, running her fingers over the same spot again, Lexa biting down on her bottom lip in response and- well _that’s_ not about to discourage Clarke from doing it again.

“ _Clarke_.” Lexa chuckles in warning, breaking the kiss and catching Clarke’s hand in her own, linking their fingers together instead.

Clarke accepts defeat and turns her attention to Lexa’s neck, pressing soft kisses up to her jaw before dragging her teeth teasingly along her skin, “Still worried about people walking in?” she murmurs, biting down on her neck lightly.

Lexa shivers under her, “I don’t think I really care right now.” She answers shakily, leaning into Clarke’s touch as the blonde sucks at her pulse point.

“We can go back to mine.” Clarke mumbles out against her skin.

Lexa is practically putty in Clarke’s hands now (and Clarke is _loving_ it), the athlete’s voice scratchy with arousal, “That could work, too.”

Clarke grins, “Could it?”

“It definitely could.”

It takes all of Clarke’s willpower to pull away from Lexa, but the thought of what will happen once they reach her apartment helps fight the urge to remain there, and she’s soon tossing Lexa her shirt and dragging the still topless girl out of the house.

And yeah.

Clarke definitely prefers Lexa’s parties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So it's late here but I really wanted to get this chap out for you because I've been working on it for a while (it kept getting longer and longer lmao but that resulted in Monty/Miller so it was worth it). Thank you so much to everyone who left feedback last time! I know I say it every time but you're all honestly so lovely and I love writing for you guys :) Let me know what you thought of this one! Things are getting heated ;)  
> p.s. I've changed my tumblr to debnamridley now :)


	7. Chapter 7

The pair are a giggling mess the whole way back to Clarke’s apartment, leaning on one another as they walk and stealing kisses at every opportunity.

When they finally reach Clarke’s apartment and make it to the right floor, Clarke wastes no time in unlocking the door and dragging Lexa inside. The moment they’re over the threshold Clarke’s lips are on Lexa’s and she’s pushing the taller girl up against the door, slamming it shut in the process.

Lexa’s hands grip tight at Clarke’s hips, pulling the artist closer to her as she happily reciprocates the kiss.

“Is Octavia home?” she asks when she pulls back for air, groaning as Clarke’s lips find her neck instead.

Clarke laughs softly, breath tickling Lexa’s neck, “Who cares?”

Lexa doesn’t respond, instead leaning into where Clarke’s teeth drag across her neck, fingers pushing up Clarke’s shirt and digging into the girl’s skin in response.

It takes a while, with the pair consistently stopping in favor of continuing to make out, but eventually they find their way to Clarke’s bedroom. Clarke pushes Lexa into the room until the back of her knees hit the bed and she falls onto the mattress, wide eyes watching as Clarke climbs on top of her.

“Clarke-”

“Shut up.” The blonde huffs, stripping her shirt before leaning over Lexa and kissing her hard.

“Just-” Lexa mumbles against Clarke’s lips, “The door.”

Clarke groans and climbs off of Lexa with an impressive speed, shutting her door and returning to her position on top of the girl, “If you’re having second-thoughts.” She starts, chest rising and falling heavily as she looks down at Lexa with dark eyes, “Now’s the time to voice them.”

Clarke finds her answer in Lexa’s hands grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her into a bruising kiss. They only separate again so Clarke can tug Lexa’s shirt over her head, reconnecting their lips seconds later.

Lexa’s hands brush Clarke’s stomach, exploring the skin there and eventually settling at the small of her back, pulling Clarke closer to her and emitting a soft whimper from the blonde as their hips grind against one another’s in search of friction.

Breaking the kiss, Clarke leans in to suck at Lexa’s neck, enjoying the sharp breath that leaves Lexa’s mouth in response. She feels one of Lexa’s fingers brush through her hair, gripping blonde tendrils and pulling Clarke close as she tilts her head to give her complete access to her neck.

When she nips at Lexa’s skin lightly it must bring some semblance of sense back to the athlete, Clarke hearing Lexa let out a strangled whine before she speaks up.

“I don’t want a relationship.” Lexa blurts into the quiet of the dark room.

Clarke freezes above her, lips still against Lexa’s neck and eventually pulling back to look down at the other girl with an exasperated expression, “I’m about to get naked on top of you and you’re seriously thinking about _that?”_

Lexa looks up at her wide-eyed, jaw opening and closing dumbly, “I- just- I don’t want to lead you on.”

Okay, yeah. It kinda stings.

It’s not like Clarke is expecting a damn proposal after this, but she’d be lying if she said she dragged Lexa to her bed out of a place of pure physical attraction. She’s had the girl beneath her running through her mind for months. So yeah, there might be some semblance of emotions going on in for her here.

If she were smart, she’d take this as a sign to get the fuck out of here and stop what’s happening before she ruins their friendship with the feelings that are inevitably just going to get worse going forward.

But Clarke’s never been one to resist temptation, and hell, she’s already gone this far. It’s not like she’s going to forget what kissing Lexa feels like anytime soon. Might as well just dive right in and accept her fate.

And she’s done benefits before. She can do the no-feelings thing with Lexa. No expectations, no disappointment right?

Whatever feelings Clarke might be having past general attraction can be revisited later.

(And hopefully when she’s less drunk).

“Clarke?”

Clarke’s eyes snap to Lexa’s and she swallows hard, training a nonchalant expression on her face and rolling her eyes dramatically, “Lexa, if I wanted a relationship I’d have asked you on a date before I attempted to fuck you.”

She catches the way Lexa flinches at the statement, and Clarke takes a little bit of pleasure out of it.

“Are… you sure?”

Clarke huffs, leaning over Lexa and resting on her forearms, staring into green eyes with a look of defiance, “It’s called fun, Lexa.” She says, a smirk tracing her lips, “Try it some time.”

Lexa’s eyes narrow, catching the challenge in Clarke’s tone, “I just want to be on the same page.”

“No strings. Gotcha.”

(God, does she have to rub it in?)

She leans in closer, lips ghosting Lexa’s, “Now can we get back to what we were doing before?” she husks, pulling one of the straps of Lexa’s bra down her arm teasingly, “Or are you too scared you might fall in love with me?”

Clarke catches the way Lexa’s jaw tightens at the teasing question, but before she can get out another smart-ass comment lips are against hers in a harsh, determined kiss and Lexa is rolling them over in the bed.

Clarke decides to let Lexa have this one, grinning against Lexa’s lips and kissing her back eagerly, her fingers making blind work of Lexa’s bra.

Lexa doesn’t break the kiss, lifting her arms one at a time as Clarke pulls the straps of her bra down her arms and smoothly rids her of the garment. Her breath hitches as she feels Clarke’s hands cup her breasts softly, leg rising between Clarke’s legs and emitting a moan from the girl beneath her as she arches into the touch.

“Careful,” Clarke murmurs out teasingly as Lexa’s hips grind down harder against her own, “I might start thinking you want this a little too much.”

Lexa’s breathy laugh hits Clarke’s lips, a soft groan falling leaving her when Clarke’s fingers dig into her shoulders, “Time to stop talking, Griffin.”

Clarke’s happy with that order, hands moving to press against Lexa’s chest, ankles wrapping around Lexa’s and promptly rolling them over on the bed so she’s back on top. Clarke catches a glimpse of exasperation on Lexa’s face, but any signs of fighting the switch in position are lost on her expression the moment Clarke reaches behind her to unclip her own bra, pulling off the item and dropping it to the floor.

Lexa doesn’t speak past moans breathy curses after that.

* * *

 

When Clarke wakes in the morning, it’s to the loss of Lexa’s body warmth, hand outstretching to find the space next to her empty. Her eyes flutter open, brow furrowed and finding Lexa sat on the edge of the bed, underwear on and in the middle of sliding on her bra.

Her heart sinks at the realization that Lexa’s trying to make an escape before she wakes, and Clarke considers pretending to still be sleeping just to spare them the awkwardness. Maybe she was too presumptuous to think Lexa would stay the night to begin with.

But when Lexa hooks her bra on Clarke decides to speak up; because she’ll be damned if she lets the girl just run off to ignore her all over again after a night that Clarke, personally, thought had went more than well.

“You’re going?” Clarke asks, voice gravelly from sleep.

Lexa looks over her shoulder at Clarke’s voice, clearly not having expected the blonde to be awake, “I should get back before people wake up.”

“Right.”

An awkward silence settles between them, Lexa not making a move to continue her exit.

“So what’s the plan now?” Clarke asks, sitting up and moving to rest back against the headboard of her bed. She takes her comforter with her in an attempt to keep covered (which is probably useless at this point, seeing as she just spent the whole night with Lexa’s hands all over her nude body. But Clarke’s feeling less confident than usual now that she’s caught Lexa mid-escape).

The question seems to make Lexa uncomfortable, which doesn’t do much to help Clarke’s wounded spirits.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, were you planning on ignoring me for another week?”

Lexa frowns, “No.” she says, “I told you I wouldn’t do that again.”

“But you want to.”

The accusation even stings Clarke when she says it.

“What makes you think that?”

A sad smile traces Clarke’s lips, “Give me some credit, Lexa.” She sighs, “I know you well enough to be able to tell when you’re in flight mode.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Clarke.”

“Maybe that you don’t regret last night. That would be nice.”

“I don’t regret it.” Lexa says firmly, eyes finally meeting Clarke’s, “I just thought it would give you mixed signals if I stayed.”

Well, she’s not totally wrong.

Usually Clarke’s happy for people to leave before she wakes up, if it means avoiding the awkward morning conversation. Hell, _Clarke’s_ even guilty of the act.

Lexa said she didn’t want anything to come out of it last night. She gave Clarke a chance to stop. It’s not _Lexa’s_ fault that Clarke willingly put herself in this situation.

“Okay, fine.” Clarke says eventually, caving to Lexa’s point, “But you could at least say goodbye. I’m not some random girl you picked up at a party, Lexa. We’re supposed to be friends.”

Lexa takes a moment, letting out a soft breath and eventually nodding her head, “I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll be more considerate.”

That catches Clarke, a sly smile tugging at the blonde’s lips, “Next time?”

Lexa pauses, cheeks reddening, “I didn’t mean- well… I just _mean_ if this were to happen again… I’d make sure I say goodbye.”

“Well… thanks.”

Clarke watches Lexa for a moment, taking every detail of her features that- even after a night of alcohol and very little sleep- remain striking as ever. There’s a hint vulnerability in her eyes that makes Clarke second-guess whether their actions last night were such a good idea after all.

She shifts onto her knees and moves over so she’s sat in front of Lexa, grateful when the other girl doesn’t seem to hesitate at their closeness. Clarke tries her best to ignore their respective states of undress.

(You’d think she’d be well over Lexa’s body by now but apparently not, and the blonde can’t help when her eyes glances over Lexa’s torso briefly.)

“You promise this isn’t going to change things?” she asks softly, “I mean- last night was amazing but if that’s now fucked up things between us-”

“It hasn’t.” Lexa cuts her off, voice firm, “It’s fine, Clarke. I had a good time.”

A smile tugs at Clarke’s lips then, “Okay.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, “Well in _that_ case, I’m definitely not opposed to the idea of it happening again.”

Lexa is watching Clarke, biting back a smile at the red rising in the blonde’s cheeks. Her eyes dart down to Clarke’s lips briefly before she leans in, hand cupping the other girl’s face and kissing her softly.

Clarke kisses her back, eventually deepening the kiss in a last ditch effort to get Lexa distracted enough that she’ll stay. This doesn’t work, however, and Lexa is pulling back with a soft laugh when Clarke’s fingers find the band of her underwear.

“I really do have to go.” Lexa says, smile widening at Clarke’s pout, “I’d prefer not to have your housemates catch me sneaking out.”

“Whatever.” Clarke grumbles, pushing at Lexa lightly.

(She can’t really blame Lexa for wanting to skip the Raven/Octavia teasing that Clarke is set to endure today)

Lexa laughs, getting off the bed and peering around the room in search of her clothing. She eventually spots her jeans hanging haphazardly over some canvases that rest back against Clarke’s wall, the athlete moving over to collect the garments.

Clarke sighs, lying back down on her side and watching Lexa, head resting in her hands and admiring the way the muscles on her back tense as she pulls on her jeans. Lexa’s tattoos are now joined by light red marks, left there courtesy of Clarke’s intoxicated need for the other girl. Clarke lets out a soft laugh at the sight, Lexa looking back at her and frowning.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Clarke shrugs, training an innocent expression on her face, “Just maybe don’t be on the ‘skins’ team at practice today.”

Lexa’s eyes narrow, the girl letting out a heavy sigh and walking over to Clarke’s mirror, turning around so her back faces it and looking over her shoulder to inspect the damage.

“When did you even _do_ that?” Lexa murmurs, fingers tracing over the marks, “I look like I’ve been mauled.”

“Hey, you didn’t feel it, apparently.”

Lexa’s eyes catch something else in the mirror, brushing her hair over one shoulder with a panicked pace and eyes widening when she finds a hickey on her neck, “ _Clarke.”_ She grits, looking over to the artist.

Clarke grins, “Well I know you felt _that_ one.” She says, “You seemed to enjoy it, actually.”

“How am I supposed to hide _this?”_ Lexa gestures to the bruise in alarm, “What are you? Fourteen? I can’t show up to practice with _this_! I wear my hair up!”

Clarke struggles not to laugh at Lexa’s reaction, burying her face in the sheets to hide her amusement, “I’m sorry.” She mumbles out against the fabric.

_(She’s totally not sorry)_

Lexa turns around, narrowed eyes on Clarke and approaching the bed once more.

“I thought you had to leave?” Clarke asks, voice taking on a tone that mocks Lexa’s usual drawl, “Casual sex and all that.”

“I do.” Lexa nods, climbing onto the mattress and pushing Clarke so she moves onto her back.

Clarke’s eyebrows rise as Lexa then moves to straddle her, more than happy to let whatever Lexa is planning on doing play out.

(She just wishes this plan had started _before_ the girl had put those stupid tight jeans back on.)

“Well if this is your definition of leaving I’m both worried and kinda thankful.” Clarke grins, not fighting Lexa when the girl’s hands enclose over her wrists, pinning her to the bed, “You could’ve left the jeans off, though.” She says, eyes darting down to Lexa’s lips as she hovers over her, barely an inch between them, “They were fucking annoying to get off the first time.”

A genuine grin crosses Lexa’s face at that and Clarke decides it’s her favorite thing ever.

“I don’t need them off.” Lexa answers simply.

“Then what-” Clarke finds her answer when Lexa leans in and starts to suck at her neck, “Hey!” Clarke whines, squirming under Lexa and attempting to lean away from the girl, “No- Lexa- come on! I didn’t _mean_ to give you a hickey!”

Lexa’s breath hits Clarke’s neck as she laughs, ignoring the artist and placing more of her weight on Clarke to keep her pinned to the bed.

When Lexa’s lips reattach to her neck, sucking determinedly at her skin, Clarke can’t help the soft whimper that she lets out.

(Clarke gives up on fighting it after that, because it’s kind of hard to pretend to be mad when Lexa’s lips feel this good against her neck)

When Lexa’s satisfied, she pulls back and inspects her work with a smug smile, laughing at Clarke’s flustered appearance before climbing off of the blonde.

“Now we’re even.”

Clarke gapes, cheeks bright red and feeling a hell of a lot more turned on than moments before, “And you call _me_ fourteen.” She huffs, glaring at Lexa stubbornly as the other girl swipes up her shirt from where it was bunched on the floor, “At least the hickey I gave you led to an orgasm. The least you could do is follow-through on what you just started.”

“Maybe next time.” Lexa quips, pulling her shirt over her head and turning back to Clarke, “Besides, if you didn’t want a hickey, maybe you shouldn’t have given me one.”

“Well I wasn’t exactly thinking of the technicalities when I did it. And you don’t have Raven and Octavia ready to tease you over anything.” Clarke grumbles, getting out of bed and not bothering to cover up this time when she heads over to her closet. She retrieves one of her oversized shirts, throwing it over her body and glancing over her shoulder to find Lexa’s eyes trained firmly on her ass. “Reconsidering leaving, yet?”

Lexa’s gaze immediately darts up to meet Clarke’s eyes, the girl swallowing hard, “No.” she mumbles, standing up straighter, “And I have Anya and a whole hockey team to deal with. They’re not going to shut up once they see this massive thing on my neck.”

Clarke grins, walking past Lexa and heading out of her room, hearing the girl follow behind her, “So what are you going to tell them when they see it?”

“Nothing.”

“You guys don’t trade sex stories?” Clarke teases, turning around when she reaches the door and smirking at Lexa as the girl reaches her, “Isn’t that kinda the point of locker-room talk?”

A smile tugs at Lexa’s lips, “Are you upset that I’m not going to tell them anything, Clarke?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Well, I’d just like to think I’m an experience to brag about.” Clarke’s smile widens and she moves to open the door for Lexa, leaning up against it when the other girl steps over the threshold and turns back to her, “Besides, I’ll probably have Octavia and Raven forcing me to talk about it. So it’s only fair you get some gossip-time too.”

“Right.” Lexa chuckles, leaning against the doorframe, eyes glancing down to Clarke’s lips, “And what are you going to tell them about me?”

Clarke grins, shrugging and tilting her head up towards Lexa, lips ghosting the other girl’s, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well that _is_ why I asked.”

Before Clarke can close the distance between them, the pair are interrupted by the cursing of a hushed voice, Lexa frowning and pulling away from Clarke to peer down the corridor. A smirk tugs at her lips when she spots the person, and Clarke leans out of the doorway to find Raven standing there, hair mussed and make-up from the night before smudged beneath her eyes.

Her heels are in her hands, shirt on her torso crumpled to no ends and well… if Clarke hadn’t already caught onto her friend’s escapades of the previous night, the pained expression on Raven’s face at being caught sneaking home confirms all suspicions.

Clarke can’t help the laugh that falls from her lips at the sight of Raven. Because _God_ , how nice it is to finally have _Raven_ on the other side of this situation.

“ _Well, well_.” Clarke starts, grin only widening at Raven’s pained expression, “Who did _you_ sleep with last night?”

“Guess I don’t have to ask you the same question.” Raven swipes back, looking between Lexa and Clarke pointedly.

“So who was it?”

Raven glares at Clarke, letting out a heavy sigh and moving forward, “I need to sleep.” She grumbles, pushing past the pair and waving behind her as she moves inside, “Congrats on finally fucking.”

Lexa offers Raven an awkward wave, mumbling out a ‘bye’ to the girl.

Clarke watches Raven move inside, turning back around to face Lexa, “She’s not so great at receiving a dose of her own medicine.”

A smile tugs at Lexa’s lips, “You’re not going to lay-off her though, are you?” she guesses (probably based on the sheer joy that is written on Clarke’s features right now).

“Oh, definitely not.”

Lexa laughs, shaking her head and pushing off of the doorframe, “I’ll let you get to it, then.”

“Okay.” Clarke smiles, feeling a _little_ bit bitter that Raven made her appearance just as she was about to get another kiss out of Lexa, “I’ll see you later, Lexa.”

“Yeah.” Lexa nods, scratching at the back of her neck and taking a few steps back, “Bye, Clarke.”

The athlete turns on her heel then, heading off down the hallway while Clarke watches her go.

A soft sigh falls from Clarke’s lips when Lexa disappears into the stairwell, attempting to ignore the giddy feeling that’s been wracking her body since Lexa first kissed her.

 _Boy_ , is she in trouble.

Mentally scolding herself for acting like a teen virgin, Clarke forces herself to walk back into the apartment then instead of chasing Lexa and reenacting some dumb sappy scene featured in too many rom-coms.

When she closes the door behind her, she decides to forgo sleep for now, making a beeline for Raven’s room and bursting inside, finding her friend tucked under her covers. The pained groan Raven lets out when she feels Clarke’s weight sinking the bed doesn’t deter her, the blonde climbing onto her friend’s back.

“Was it Bellamy?” she grins, poking at Raven’s back teasingly.

Raven grunts in response, blindly swatting at Clarke’s hand and gripping to the idea of sleep.

“ _Come on_ , you know about me and Lexa.” Clarke pushes.

“Everyone knows about you and Lexa, it’s not news.” Raven responds, lifting her head slightly from her pillow so Clarke can hear her properly, “Fuck off, I want to sleep.”

“God, you’re grumpy as shit for someone who just got laid.” Clarke pokes Raven again, “Tell me who it was and I’ll leave you alone.”

“It was no one.”

“I didn’t _see_ you chatting anyone up at Lexa’s.” Clarke ponders, “I swear I literally only saw you with Anya and Ontari the whole time.”

“Go fuck Lexa.”

“Oh, I’ll do that later.” Clarke smirks, laughing at the loud groan she receives from Raven, “It was Bellamy, wasn’t it? You slept with Bellamy again.” she laughs loudly, “Oh, man. O’s gonna to be so upset. She practically had a breakdown last time she found out.”

Raven rolls over beneath Clarke, glaring daggers up at her friend, “If you don’t let me sleep I swear to God I’ll call Finn’s pathetic ass up and tell him you want him back.”

“Oh _, come on_ , you’ve been teasing me ever since I _met_ Lexa. This is karma.”

“I don’t care. I’ll do it.” Raven looks at Clarke stubbornly.

“ _Fine_.” Clarke huffs, climbing off of Raven, “I’ll leave it until you’ve slept off your bitchy mood.”

“Whatever.” Raven grumbles, burrowing in her comforter once more. She opens one eye when Clarke doesn’t leave, the blonde instead moving under the comforter with her.

Once she’s settled Clarke looks to Raven, “What?” she shrugs, “I didn’t get much sleep last night either.”

Raven’s eyes narrow, but the mechanic then lets out an exhausted breath, rolling over, “Just don’t fucking spoon me.”

“But Octavia always spoons you-”

“No.”

* * *

 

Clarke doesn’t understand why Raven pretends to be the anti-spooning queen anyway, seeing as the moment the other girl gets comfortable in the bed she is shifting closer to Clarke and wrapping an arm around her waist. She doesn’t have the energy to call Raven out on it though, soon dead to the world along with her friend until Octavia eventually wakes up and decides to find them.

Clarke hears voices outside that presumably belong to Octavia and Lincoln, and sound of the door to the apartment closing soon follows. When she then hears Raven’s door creak open and Octavia’s feet pad against the floor, Clarke attempts to ignore it and grip to the remnants of sleep.

She should know, by now, that such a thing is impossible when anyone in their trio of friends wants the opposite. Raven’s the first to be yanked right out of sleep, the sound of Octavia’s hand slapping hard against her ass ringing through the bedroom followed by a loud yelp from the mechanic who promptly pulls away from Clarke.

Clarke quickly rolls away to avoid the slap she just _knows_ is coming, and flicks Octavia off when she manages to do it just in time, Octavia’s hand hitting the mattress and the brunette pouting in response.

Raven is groaning into her pillow in pain, hand on her ass and voice muffled as she no doubt curses Octavia out. Clarke catches ‘I fucking hate you’ amongst the profanities, laughing and arching an eyebrow at Octavia.

“She’s not happy today.”

Octavia grins, looking down at Raven, “What’d you do?”

Raven doesn’t respond, so Clarke takes it upon herself to inform their best friend, “She slept with someone.”

The youngest Blake pales at that, sending a glare down at Raven, “It better not have been Bellamy again.”

“ _Fuck_ , it wasn’t Bellamy!” Raven huffs, rolling onto her back and glaring up at the ceiling.

“So who _was_ it?” Clarke drawls, rolling her eyes.

Silence follows, Clarke and Octavia sharing bored looks.

“You’re really not going to tell us?”

Clarke sighs, shaking her head, “It was totally Bellamy.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Raven mumbles, arm resting over her eyes, her other hand pointing to Clarke, “She had sex with Lexa.”

Octavia’s full attention is on Clarke then, a shit-eating grin on her face, “I _saw_.” She responds teasingly, “I thought we were getting robbed when you guys came fucking storming in.”

That manages to get a laugh out of Raven, her arm falling from her eyes so she can grin at Octavia, “Really? Was it hot?” she glances to Clarke with a smirk before back to Octavia, “How naked were they?”

“They were still clothed. So no peep show for me.” Octavia sighs wistfully, looking to Clarke, “Actually, I’m surprised you even made it to your room. You didn’t even notice me and Lincoln come out of my room.”

“Fuck.” Clarke scrunches up her nose, “I’m so sorry.”

Raven is giggling, thoroughly enjoying the story, “I’m not. I just wish the Lexa knew she had been seen. _That_ would’ve been entertainment.”

The mechanic receives a pillow to the face at that.

Octavia shrugs when Clarke looks back to her, “No sorry needed. You’ve witnessed worse.” She says, “Just next time try not to knock so much shit over.”

The girl then remembers something, “ _Actually_ you do owe me a sorry!” she announces, promptly shoving at both of her friends, almost launching Clarke off the bed, “I can’t believe you left me at Bell’s party! _And_ you took Monty! He had the weed!”

“Oh, please. You wouldn’t have wanted to come anyway, it would have meant getting your tongue out of Lincoln’s throat.” Raven says.

“Well he could’ve come along.” Octavia grins, shrugging, “Not my fault that my boyfriend’s a babe.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “We were going to a smaller party. I didn’t want to show up with a million people. Bellamy would have come and then that would mean Jasper and frat brothers like Murphy and I wanted these people to _actually_ like me.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Octavia allows, “But if you do it again I’m kicking both of your asses.” She says, “Where’d you go, anyway?”

“Lexa’s friends were having a party.”

“It was basically just Clarke’s mission to get laid.”

“An admirable mission.” Octavia nods, “And you were successful.”

“Apparently I’m not the only one.” Clarke quips, poking at Raven, “You know we’re gonna find out who you slept with.”

“I think I’m resigning to the idea that it was Bellamy.” Octavia murmurs, looking scarred by the thought of it.

“It wasn’t-” Raven huffs, shaking her head and giving up, “Whatever. How about Lexa, Princess? Are you married now?”

“No.” Clarke rolls her eyes, “It wasn’t anything serious.”

That seems to spark a response from both Raven and Octavia, who straighten up slightly, looking at Clarke curiously.

“Really?” Octavia tilts her head, “I thought you really liked her.”

“I never said that.” Clarke mumbles sheepishly.

“You didn’t have to.” Raven drawls, “You haven’t shut up about her for months. It’s been obvious.”

“Well- I mean… fine… I guess I kind of like her. It’s not a big deal.”

“It isn’t?”

“Just- she’s not interested in anything right now.” Clarke shrugs, attempting to remain nonchalant, “We’re just going to have fun.”

Raven eyes Clarke, seeing right through her, “So did Lexa tell you that?”

“Yeah. And it’s fine, she was just being honest.”

“Huh. Weird.” Octavia frowns, “It seemed like she was into you.”

“Well she still slept with her, so she’s clearly a bit interested.” Raven chuckles, “Girl’s probably just got hang up’s.”

Clarke toys with the comforter, “Yeah, I don’t know.” She says weakly, “She’s never really spoke about her exes or anything. Whenever it’s come up it’s been the same vague answers.”

“Well she’s not the warmest character.” Raven says, “Don’t panic, Princess. The more in your head you get about it the more you’ll fuck yourself over.”

“I’m not upset or anything.” Clarke insists.

(Well, she hasn’t really had a chance to process if she’s completely okay with this ‘casual’ situation yet)

“I mean- after all the Finn drama I’m not even sure if _I’m_ ready for a relationship. So it’s no big deal.”

(Even Clarke is hearing 'doth protest too much' in the back of her mind at this point)

“Exactly.” Octavia nods firmly, offering Clarke a soft smile and nudging her shoulder lightly, “Just be cautious, yeah? She’s been honest, so try not to get your hopes up much and let it play out easy. I don’t wanna have to break another nose on your behalf.”

“True.” Raven chimes in, “At least Finn’s weak as shit. Lexa looks like she’d fight back.”

Octavia scoffs, “I could still take her.” Her eyes then narrow and she leans closer to Clarke, scrutinizing her, “You know you have a _giant_ fucking hickey on your neck right?”

Clarke grins, “Alright, I’m going to shower.” She declares, eager to escape _that_ conversation and climbing up off the bed, “Raven, when I get back you’re telling us who you had sex with.”

Raven flips her off as she leaves, and Clarke hears Octavia already berating their friend as she heads down the hallway. When she reaches her room she spots her phone lit up on her bedside table, a text from Monty waiting for her.

_Monty: Thanks for bringing me last night, you’re the best. I have some thank you treats for you later ;) Stock up on snacks!_

Clarke laughs, excited by the thought of indulging in a substance other than booze for the night.

_Clarke: You and Miller hit it off ;) come over whenever. Love you, Mont xx_

Clarke spends the start of her day generally being useless. She attempts to get some study done, but her mind insists on venturing to her night with Lexa every 5 minutes, and eventually she all but gives up on being productive for the day.

Her hand itches to text Lexa but she resists, Raven and Octavia helping her to remind herself that this is supposed to be ‘casual’ and constant contact is far from that.

Although the fact that she and Lexa have been in each other’s space 24/7 for months kind of leaves her in an odd position. Because usually she _would_ be texting Lexa. So what, does that all change now that they’ve slept together?

Her dilemma is solved in the afternoon when her phone buzzes with a call and Lexa’s face lights up the screen, Clarke’s eyes widening and the blonde practically launching herself at her phone the moment she sees it.

She forces herself to wait a few rings before answering, taking a deep breath.

“Hey!” Clarke greets, wincing at how gleeful she sounds. She hears people yelling on the other end and Lexa yelling out to someone before the athlete apparently remembers she’s called Clarke.

_“Hi, Clarke.”_

Clarke grins at Lexa’s voice, “Where are you?”

 _“Oh, sorry. I’m leaving practice.”_ Lexa says, shuffling something around, _“How’s your day going?”_

“Good.” Clarke laughs awkwardly, “You know, usually a one night stand doesn’t check in the day after.” She teases, wondering if Lexa’s been having the same thoughts as her all day, “Missing me?”

Lexa laughs on the other end, _“I thought you said we’re also friends?”_

“True.”

_“Friends call each other.”_

“Also true.” Clarke nods, dawdling around her bedroom, “So, did your teammates see the hickey?”

 _“They did.”_ Lexa confirms, _“You’ll be happy to know I got teased relentlessly.”_

“Perfect.”

_“Although Anya was in a similar situation, so we got to share the experience.”_

Clarke laughs, “Aw, Bellamy’s heart will be broken.”

_“Yeah. I don’t know who she was with last night though, so she might’ve just met up with him.”_

“Nope, I’m pretty certain Raven ended her night with Bell.” Clarke hums, running a hand through her hair, “So, is there a reason you’re calling?”

 _“Oh, yeah. Uh- apparently Lincoln’s putting together a small thing at the beach tonight?”_ Lexa says, _“I’m deciding whether to go.”_

A smile tugs at Clarke’s lips, “Uh huh. And what do I have to do with that?”

Clarke can imagine the eye roll Lexa is doing right now, hearing the soft laugh that the athlete lets out.

_“I just wanted to know if you would be there.”_

“Why?”

_“Clarke…”_

Clarke laughs, “Yes, I’ll be there.”

_“Great.”_

“So are you going to come?”

_“We’ll see.”_

“You know, playing it coy is kind of pointless now that I’ve gotten you naked.”

_“I’ll see you tonight, Clarke.”_

Clarke grins, biting down on her bottom lip, “See you then.”

When Lexa hangs up, Clarke lets out a heavy sigh, falling back onto her bed.

Well, fuck.

She likes her a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the later update on this one guys! Life happened. But I'm really excited for next chap so I'm hoping to get that out relatively soon! Thank you so much to everyone who has left comments, I love seeing what you liked and how you're enjoying it :3 It's also interesting some of the things you've picked up on! There are a few easter eggs in this chap lmao so keep ya eye out! Anyway let me know what you thought, and I hope everyone is doing okay after last week :/ the fandom has been a sad place lately, so I hope some FF makes you feel a bit better! Lexa will thrive forever in fanwork, where JRoth can't hurt her. xx


	8. Chapter 8

Clarke arrives at the gathering that night early, riding with Lincoln, Octavia and Monty and helping to get the fire pit started before the rest of their friends eventually begin to show up.

There’s more people at the gathering than expected, with Bellamy having invited Finn, Murphy and Atom and Raven randomly showing up with Wick on her arm (which earns her more than a few confused looks from her friends, who have witnessed the girl cuss out Wick with no mercy on numerous occasions).

When Lexa arrives with Anya, she greets everyone as a group, offering Clarke a playful smile before Bellamy pulls her attention away and she sits down next to the boy. Clarke tells herself she doesn’t have the right to be slightly letdown that Lexa didn’t choose to sit next to her.

She also tells herself to quit being a child when she sees Lincoln kiss Octavia’s cheek fondly and feels a small sliver of jealousy over the small show of affection.

_Get your damn head together, Griffin. It’s not that fucking deep._

As though his ‘Clarke’s in a bad mood’ senses were tingling, it’s then that Finn decides to provide Clarke with the pleasure of his company. Apparently, the term ‘casual drinks’ is lost on him, and as Finn sits down next to Clarke, the stench of beer on him makes her wrinkle her nose in distaste.

She shouldn’t really be surprised. Clarke’s certain some of the boys (namely Murphy) in Finn’s frat haven’t been sober since the day they stepped foot on campus. Hell, they were probably doing keg-stands before midday. Bellamy seems sober enough, at least Clarke’s guessing he isn’t completely drunk, seeing as she doubts Lexa would be looking as interested in what he’s saying if he were at his frat-boy peak.

Clarke lets out a soft sigh of defeat, offering Finn a half-hearted smile as he nudges her lightly, “You’re drunk.” She states plainly, receiving a mischievous smile from Finn.

“Are you judging me, Princess?”

“Only a little.”

“You know I recall a certain freshman skinny dipping at one of these gatherings last year.”

“Well Bellamy’s jungle juice will do that to a girl.” Clarke grins, rolling her eyes at the memory.

“So are you pretty hungover tonight?”

“What?”

“You disappeared from the party last night.” Finn elaborates, shrugging, “I figured you’d either drank too quick or Raven had.”

“Oh, no.” Clarke shakes her head, “I just had another thing to go to.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Clarke has to hold back an eye-roll at that. Because seriously when _doesn’t_ a drunk Finn want to talk to her?

“Oh. Sorry.” She responds dryly.

Murphy hops up from where he’d been sitting at Clarke’s other side, making some snide remark about ‘love birds’ that makes Clarke want to throttle him before repositioning himself at another side of the circle of friends.

Great, now she doesn’t even have an escape route.

(Although conversation with Murphy isn’t exactly much more pleasant of a thought than enduring one of Finn’s inevitable speeches)

“You’re cold.” Finn decides then, regaining Clarke’s attention and immediately shrugging off his jacket to give to her.

“Finn- it’s fine-” Clarke’s protest goes ignored and she bites back a snippy comment as he places his jacket over her shoulders.

He offers her a smile that Clarke once found charming, and she mumbles out a begrudging ‘thank you’ despite the urge she has to throw the damn jacket onto the fire in front of them.

_You said you wanted to be his friend, Clarke. Be friendly._

In hindsight, she probably should have thought about the lingering anger she has at the boy before telling him they could be friends again.

Clarke catches Lexa’s gaze across the fire, and if the irritated set to her jaw as she watches them is anything to go by, the hockey player is _not_ enjoying the sight of Clarke under Finn’s jacket.

So hey, maybe Finn’s presence isn’t a complete burden.

Speaking of Finn, he has also apparently noticed Lexa’s stare, and takes that as his cue to shift closer to Clarke.

“So… this Lexa chick.” he starts, looking like a kicked puppy as he looks back to Clarke.

Once upon a time Clarke found the expression endearing (hell, it’s how the boy got away with messing her around for so long), but now it’s just plain annoying.

“What about her?” Clarke responds, a slight edge to her voice as she prepares herself for whatever half-assed speech Finn’s planning on delivering this time.

“I dunno.” Finn shrugs uselessly, “Is she like… a permanent thing now?”

“Well… she’s become friends with us; same with Lincoln. So yeah, I guess.”

“No, I mean- like…” Finn arches his eyebrows as he trails off, “You two…”

Clarke knows what he’s asking.

Of course she knows what he’s asking; she’s not a moron. But this isn’t exactly a conversation she wants to have with her ex-boyfriend. Seriously, what’s she supposed to say?

“ _No Finn, we’re not dating because Lexa’s not into that kind of thing so I’m just humoring myself with the idea until she inevitably breaks my heart.”_

Honestly fuck Finn and his annoying face.

(Okay maybe she’s projecting a little bit now)

(It’s not like he’s not annoying enough anyway, though)

When Clarke looks over at Lexa again, the girl is still in conversation with Bellamy, although the real focus of her attention is clear when her eyes glance back to Clarke and Finn.

Clarke huffs, “We’re having fun.” She offers, looking back to Finn.

“Right.” Finn nods, running a hand through his hair, “So… do you like her?”

“I’m not talking about this with you, Finn.”

“Well that’s a yes.” Finn says, “I guess I should be planning my exit then, if Finn 2.0 is already lined up.”

It’s his attempt at a light joke, but the frustration in Finn’s tone shines through. And honestly the humor is lost on Clarke due to the fact that the boy’s ego is apparently so large that he believes Clarke’s looking for anyone remotely like him for her next partner.

“She’s nothing like you, Finn.” She mumbles out in response.

“Well- I mean…” Finn lets out a soft laugh, “She must have _something_ in common with me. Everyone has a type. I’m not trying to be a dick.”

Clarke’s jaw tightens, “I think it’s safe to say that after how things ended between us, I wouldn’t be out looking to repeat the same thing.”

“Clarke.” Finn reaches out then, grasping Clarke’s hands. His face falls when she pulls them away immediately, and he instead shifts closer, demanding Clarke’s attention, “Just tell me what I have to do to make things right and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t _want_ you to do anything.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“ _Yes_ , I do. Jesus, Finn, how many times do I have to say it?” Clarke shakes her head in disbelief, “We’re over; leave it in the past.”

“But we were good together-”

“ _Were_. Keyword.” Clarke presses, “And then you fucked up and I moved on. Can we stop revisiting this every single time you have a sip of alcohol?”

“That’s not why-”

“Clarke.”

Clarke almost hollers in relief at the sound of Monty’s voice, turning around to find him and Raven standing there looking like her very own perfect, genius ass knights in shining armor.

“Can you help us get more drinks from the car?” Raven asks, looking to Finn briefly with an irritated expression, “You have the keys, right?”

Clarke doesn’t have the keys, Raven does.

Clarke is remembering right now why she loves the mechanic standing in front of her (even if she has been acting weird since Clarke caught her mid walk-of-shame this morning).

“Yeah, sure.” Clarke says, sparing no time in jumping up from the log and passing Finn his jacket back before leaving him well behind.

Clarke lets out a sigh of relief when they’re out of hearing distance, headed towards the parking lot, “Thanks for that.”

Raven grins, “Monty’s the one to thank. I was happily waiting for you to shove Finn in the fire.”

Monty rolls his eyes, smiling at Clarke, “No problem.” He says, “Although I’m sure Lexa would have broken it up for you eventually, anyway.”

A loud laugh falls from Raven’s lips, “Yeah, did you catch the glare she kept sending you two?”

“She wasn’t _glaring_ at us.” Clarke says, biting back an amused smile at the news that she wasn’t the only one noticing Lexa’s annoyed glances.

“Whatever you say.” Raven smirks, attention turning to Monty then, “What about you, hey? You and _Miller_ got along last night.” She coos, “Those body shots were getting a bit heated.”

Monty’s eyes widen, the boy looking to the sand at his feet shyly, “I was drunk…” he mumbles out, “It’s not a big deal. You and Anya were doing the same-”

“We’re not talking about me.” Raven cuts him off quickly, a nervous laugh falling from her lips that sparks Clarke’s curiosity (because when the fuck is _Raven_ ever anything but confident?) The mechanic is composed again within seconds, though, her teasing smile returning, “Do you like him?”

Monty completely pales at the blunt question, beginning to splutter out some response before Clarke decides to save him from Raven’s teasing and turns the conversation to said mechanic.

“So what’s the story with you inviting Wick the Dick along tonight?” she asks, eyeing Raven as the trio come to a stop at their car, “I swear I remember you throwing a drink on him at a party like a month ago.”

At having the conversation turn to her, Raven looks a _lot_ less jovial, face scrunching up into a look of exasperation.

“I… I didn’t do _that_. It was an accident.” She splutters, “And who cares? He’s hot. Bit of an ass but it’s whatever.”

Clarke’s eyes narrow, noting how on-edge Raven seems, “Are you okay?”

“What? I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’re acting weird.”

“No I’m not.” Raven pushes.

Clarke rolls her eyes, deciding to drop it (because really there’s no chance she’s getting anywhere with Raven), “Right.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Monty starts, a mischievous smile tracing his lips, “I didn’t actually need help with the drinks.”

Opening the car door, Monty retrieves a tin from inside, opening it to reveal a collection of pre-prepared joints, “I told you I had a thank you gift for you.”

Clarke laughs, “I like your thank you gifts.”

“Ugh, now we’re talking.” Raven grins excitedly, “Monty, have I ever told you I loved you?”

Monty grins, shrugging, “A few times.”

* * *

Clarke shares a joint with Monty and Raven, the trio trading mindless conversation before they decide they should probably head back to their group of friends. Asking Monty for an extra joint to share with Lexa, Clarke makes a beeline for the hockey player when they approach the group once more.

She sits down next to Lexa, grinning when green eyes find her own, “I have something.”

Lexa’s tight-lipped smile breaks into a full one then, and Clarke’s really got to shake this giddy feeling she gets every time that happens.

“You do?” Lexa responds, eyes swimming with amusement.

“Mmhmm.”

“What is it?”

Clarke smiles lazily, shrugging, “It’s a secret.”

Lexa laughs, and says something that Clarke doesn’t quite catch because she’s too caught up in how great a laugh the hockey player has.

She decides then to make Lexa laugh more often.

Lexa says something again and- fuck, Clarke misses it again.

Well if Lexa’s lips didn’t look so soft and _nice_ , maybe Clarke could concentrate on what she’s saying.

This is totally Lexa’s fault.

Clarke shakes her head, forcing drooping eyes on Lexa, “What?”

Lexa grins, rolling her eyes, “Don’t worry. I think I’ve figured it out.”

It takes a moment, but Clarke eventually remembers to respond, grinning wickedly, “I have some for you.”

“You do?”

Clarke’s eyes glance over their group of friends, turning back to Lexa and leaning in conspiratorially, “There’s not enough for everyone, though.” she whispers, “So we have to be sneaky.”

“Sure you don’t want to give it to someone else?”

Clarke pauses, stumped, “No.” she shakes her head, “It’s for you. I want you to have it.”

“I feel so special.”

Clarke doesn’t catch the dryness to Lexa’s statement, instead grinning, “Good!” she reaches down to grasp Lexa’s hand, standing up and pulling the girl with her.

She forgets about making up an excuse to their friends, not noticing the questioning looks of some and the eye-rolls of others (Raven), and instead just dragging Lexa down the beach without a word.

Lexa allows Clarke to lead her along, grinning when they eventually come to a stop and Clarke looks around with a thoughtful expression.

“This is good.” Clarke decides, dropping down on the sand and looking up to Lexa in prompt when the hockey player remains standing, “Wanna sit?”

A soft laugh falls from Lexa’s lips and she moves to sit down next to Clarke. She waits patiently for Clarke to remember why they’re even there, and eventually the blonde brightens up and retrieves Monty’s ‘gift’ from her pocket.

Clarke holds out the joint, but when Lexa goes to take it from her she pulls it back, “Wait. Do you want to do it?” she asks, realizing in her daze that she doesn’t _actually_ know if this is Lexa’s kind of thing, “You don’t have to.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, taking the joint from Clarke, “Well I’m not about to spend the night sober while you’re giggling incessantly.” She drawls.

“I don’t _giggle_.” Clarke states, offended by the assumption. She retrieves the lighter from her pocket, handing it to Lexa, “You know, even the sound of that word is stupid.”

“If you say so.” Lexa hums, placing the joint between her lips and forming a cup with her hands to shield the flame from the breeze as she lights the end.

Clarke _did_ have a point to make, planning to defend her behaviors under the influence further. But then the sight of Lexa taking her first drag of the joint distracts her and well… what was she going on about again?

Wide blue eyes watch, entranced by Lexa’s soft lips expelling smoke into the air. She doesn’t realize she’s been staring until Lexa takes another drag and then turns to offer the joint to Clarke, catching Clarke right in the act.

“Uh- sorry.” Clarke mumbles, blinking and eventually accepting the joint with an awkwardly halted pace, “That was… hot.”

Lexa wears a smug smile, turning her head away from Clarke to blow the smoke from her last intake out into the air.

A silence settles between them as they swap the joint between one another, Clarke shifting closer to Lexa so their sides are pressed against one another’s. Lexa doesn’t acknowledge the action, simply leaning into Clarke.

“So, is this something you do a lot?” Lexa asks eventually as Clarke passes what small amount of the joint is left to her.

“Only sometimes. Monty’s a bad influence.” Clarke jokes lightly, hands moving through the sand beneath her and enjoying the cool feeling against her fingertips.

A soft laugh falls from Lexa’s lips, “I don’t think you could be peer-pressured into anything.” She says, “Too stubborn.”

“I’m not stubborn.”

Lexa eyes Clarke, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Shut up.” Clarke grumbles, nudging her shoulder against Lexa’s.

Lexa grins, taking a final drag of the joint before putting it out in the sand next to them, “I never said it was a bad thing.”

“Hmm.”

A soft smile traces Lexa’s lips as she regards Clarke with an amused expression, “So should we head back to the group?”

“I don’t think they’ll be missing us too much.”

Lexa takes a moment, eyes narrowing as she looks out at the ocean, “I’m sure Finn would argue otherwise.” She mumbles out eventually.

Clarke grins, catching the irritated bite to Lexa’s tone, “You really don’t like him, do you?”

Lexa shrugs, “Not particularly.” She huffs, moving to lie on her back.

“You’re going to get sand in your hair.”

Lexa smiles dopily, “Showers exist for a reason.”

“I’m pretty sure getting sand out of _your_ hair is a lot more difficult than one shower.”

“Hmmm.” Lexa watches Clarke, chuckling, “Just lie down, Clarke.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, moving to lie down next to Lexa despite her reservations and staring up at the night sky. To Lexa’s credit, it does look particularly pretty with the substance currently running through her system.

“I just don’t understand what you saw in him.” Lexa says then, returning to their previous topic, “Finn.”

Clarke lets out a sigh, attempting to make out patterns in the stars above them, “He was sweet. Back then, anyway.” She says, “I don’t know. It was puppy love.”

“Would you ever get back together with him?”

“No.”

The answer is so immediate that it even surprises Clarke. She frowns, thinking over the question again.

“I mean… sure, sometimes there’s some comfort in knowing that if I ever get seriously lonely… I have someone there.” She continues, “But there’s nothing there emotionally anymore. Not for me, anyway. Actually I’m not really sure I like him as a _friend_ anymore. I think I just tolerate him for the sake of the group.”

That makes Lexa chuckle, and Clarke turns her head to watch her. Her eyes trace over Lexa’s sharp features, mind straying to just how little she knows about the other girl’s own dating history. Maybe it’s the weed that’s making her feel as though the topic is less taboo than usual, but Clarke decides to push her luck. Maybe with Lexa this relaxed, the girl won’t get so cagey at the topic.

“What about you?” she asks softly, making green eyes dart to her own.

Lexa frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Whoever broke your heart.” Clarke elaborates, attempting to keep the conversation light and hide just how much she wants to know more about the topic, “Would you get back together with them?”

Lexa’s face immediately falls at that, her posture stiffening, “You know conversations like this are probably crossing a line.” she says softly.

“Probably.” Clarke agrees, “You brought it up first, though.”

Lexa watches Clarke, apparently deliberating over whether to answer the blonde’s question or not.

“I don’t like to think about it.” She admits eventually, eyes leaving Clarke to look back at the night sky.

Clarke sees her jaw tighten and Lexa expels a deep breath.

“I used to think everything was black and white.” She continues, “If someone hurts you or betrays you… that’s it. You walk away.”

“It’s not always that easy, though.”

A sad smile traces Lexa’s lips, the hockey player letting out a weak laugh, “Yeah.” She sighs, “I figured that out eventually.”

Clarke doesn’t say anything, eyes remaining on Lexa and reaching out to grab her hand, linking their fingers together. She feels Lexa squeeze her hand in response, and the athlete turns her head to meet her eyes again.

“Can we talk about something else?” Lexa asks softly.

A soft smile traces Clarke’s lips, the blonde shrugging, “We don’t have to talk at all.”

That makes Lexa chuckle, eyes glancing down to Clarke’s lips, “You know everyone can still see us, right? You took us to probably the least hidden place possible.”

“And?” Clarke grins, shifting closer to Lexa as the other girl turns onto her side to face her properly.

Lexa doesn’t pull away as Clarke leans in, “And I’m sure you’d be upsetting Finn if he were to look over here and see us.”

“I feel like that’s _Finn’s_ problem.” Clarke points out, unsure whether her body is currently buzzing from the weed or from just having Lexa this close to her.

The laugh that Lexa lets out makes Clarke’s smile widen, and then the athlete is shifting closer and leaning in, capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

Clarke happily reciprocates, unable to stop the soft moan that she lets out and head feeling light as Lexa pushes further forward. She feels Lexa’s hand rest on her stomach, sneaking beneath her shirt and fingers tracing soft patterns while Clarke’s own hand rests at the back of Lexa’s neck, the artist’s tongue running along Lexa’s bottom lip and eagerly deepening the kiss.

She’s half-tempted to pull Lexa right on top of her, but even on her high Clarke manages to make the decision that such a move might be just a tad _too_ far, considering their friends are just down the beach.

(Clarke also doesn’t trust her ability to stop at making out if she ends up with Lexa’s body pressing down against her own.)

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Lexa asks when they break away for air, looking down at Clarke with an expression that- just _jesus_ , can she not look at her like that?

“Didn’t we have this conversation last night?”

“I just want to be sure.” Lexa says, “I don’t want this to-”

“It’s fine, Lexa. Like I said last night, it’s fine. We’re just having fun.”

“Right.” Lexa nods, smiling softly and seeking out Clarke’s lips once more.

Clarke’s not entirely sure how long they’re making out for until she decides ‘fuck it’, she’s not enjoying this gathering much anyway, and mumbles out an invitation back to her place, Lexa agreeing immediately.

“I have one condition, though.” Lexa mumbles, smiling against Clarke’s lips.

“What?”

Lexa pulls back, attempting her best stern expression, “Please keep hickeys below the collar from now on.”

Clarke laughs, yanking Lexa back to her, “I’ll do my best.”

* * *

After that, Clarke and Lexa fall into a routine. The line between friendship and something more grows increasingly blurred each time Clarke goes over to Lexa’s to study and ends up in the athlete’s bed instead.

They spend a lot more time together than Clarke’s sure ‘casual flings’ are supposed to. When they’re not studying (or procrastinating from study) together, they’re often hanging out anyway.

To her credit, Clarke _does_ attempt to restrict how much time she spends with Lexa, but honestly with Octavia caught up in Lincoln and Raven being MIA so often lately, it’s not really _her fault_ that Lexa’s the most accessible person in her life.

They have their rules, and so long as they stick to them, they are completely capable of keeping themselves from accidentally falling too far into relationship territory. While Clarke’s less insistent on following said rules (because… well it’s not like _she’s_ opposed to the idea of them crossing that line), Lexa sticks to them like glue.

It’s working, for now, anyway. Clarke enjoys Lexa’s company (and _really_ enjoys what the girl’s hands are capable of), and she’s happy taking what Lexa is currently able to offer.

Does she wish she could wake up with Lexa?

Well, duh.

But she can ignore that for now. Although Clarke’s sure this casual thing would be a lot easier if Lexa didn’t insist on acting like she cares for Clarke as something well past a friend with benefits arrangement.

It’s little things that make it difficult. Like how Lexa knows her coffee order, and how the hockey player religiously shows up before Clarke’s Art History class with a coffee in hand because she knows Clarke’s likely to nap her way through to a fail in the otherwise.

Or how Lexa will never admit it, but she wants Clarke at her hockey games, going about it through subtle suggestions that really leave Clarke feeling like she has no option _but_ to attend.

(Sweaty Lexa in Captain Mode is a big plus, though)

Clarke gets teased for it, but she goes to most games. It starts with just her and Lincoln attending but eventually Octavia jumps on board after hearing how physical the game can get. Soon after Raven declares she ‘might as well’ come along too, and after that it really just becomes a domino effect, their friends making a social event out of it.

When Clarke wakes up sick and doesn’t show at Lexa’s game one weekend, the hockey player calls her to check in. She doesn’t listen to Clarke when she’s ordered to steer clear and avoid infection, and instead shows up at Clarke’s apartment after her game with soup in one hand and a thermos of god knows what in the other.

“You really don’t have to do this.” Clarke says, voice gravelly and comforter wrapped around her as she leads Lexa into the apartment.

Half of Clarke wishes Lexa weren’t witnessing her in all her snotty, phlegm-filled glory. The other half of her is already feeling slightly more upbeat now that she has Lexa here wanting to care for her.

“I want to.” Lexa says, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, “I know Lincoln’s with Octavia today so I figured you could do with some company.”

“There’s always Raven.”

“Yeah… she doesn’t really strike me as the ‘nurse’ type.”

Clarke grins, “True. She’s been locked away all morning.” She says, “I think I’m going to like Nurse Lexa a lot more.”

“Don’t speak so soon.” Lexa laughs, “You haven’t tasted this.” She says, nodding to the thermos in her hand.

Clarke looks at the thermos suspiciously, “What is it?”

“Some remedy my mom picked up while she served. It tastes terrible, but it really helps.”

Clarke pulls the thermos towards her, opening it and smelling the liquid inside. The smell manages to surpass her blocked nose and she immediately gags, putting the cap back on and sliding the thermos back to Lexa.

“… I think I’ll pass on that one.”

“Too bad you don’t have a choice.” Lexa quips, smile widening at the glare Clarke sends her.

“Okay… maybe I won’t like Nurse Lexa.”

* * *

“Come on Clarke, drink it.”

“No.” Clarke shakes her head firmly, sinking down in her bed and glaring at Lexa as the hockey player holds out a mug of what Clarke’s now dubbed ‘Satan Stew’, “Fuck no. I’m not drinking anymore of that.”

“You barely even had a sip-”

“And I almost vomited up the entire contents of my stomach.” Clarke pauses to heave out a cough, “… I’m not drinking it.”

“Clarke.”

“ _Lexa._ ”

Lexa eyes her impatiently, continuing to hold out the mug, “I’m not leaving until you’ve at least had one mug of it.”

“Guess you’re never leavin’, then.” Clarke grumbles, “Can’t I just keep eating soup?”

“I’m telling you, this helps.”

“You know I respect your parents for their service to our country and all that, but I don’t respect their methods for handling sickness. That’s actually poison, Lexa.”

“No it’s not.”

“Might as well be.” Clarke persists, stubborn as ever, “I mean, yeah, maybe it _will_ help with my flu. Because I’ll be fucking dead from putting that shit in my system.”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I went to the drug store. Whatever I have can do just as much as whatever that poison is supposed to do. I’d like to see _you_ drink it.”

Lexa arches an eyebrow, “Will you drink a cup if I agree to drink one as well?”

Clarke’s bottom lip juts out in a frustrated pout.

She appreciates Lexa looking after her, she really does. And she feels bad for being more difficult than necessary… but seriously? Clarke’s not sure she could ever like _anyone_ enough to drink that stuff.

As it turns out, as Lexa looks at her with a pleading expression, Clarke discovers that she _does_ like Lexa enough to drink the damned thing, and she huffs in defeat.

“Fine.” She mumbles, “But I’m not drinking it all at once. I swear I’ll end up vomiting.”

Lexa rolls her eyes at the dramatics, but is visibly relieved by Clarke’s answer, “Fine. You can drink it slowly.” She agrees, placing Clarke’s mug down before disappearing out of the room.

Clarke’s follows her soon after, deciding to snag Raven’s hard drive to see if the girl has downloaded anything interesting that she and Lexa can watch.

(Because shamefully, Clarke’s just about exhausted the Netflix catalogue lately)

“You know, I’m going to send some of this stuff to my mom.” Clarke says bitterly as she walks out into the kitchen, finding Lexa standing at the island, “See what an actual _doctor_ thinks of it.”

Lexa ignores the statement, watching as Clarke passes through the kitchen, “What’re you doing out of bed?”

“Getting something good to watch. Any preferences?”

“Preferably not a reality show.”

“Gotcha.” Clarke nods, not bothering to knock on Raven’s door before walking straight in.

Turns out, she completely regrets that action straight away.

A surprised squeak follows Clarke’s entrance and the blonde’s jaw drops as she sees a topless Anya tumble off of Raven and onto the floor.

“Oh-my- _ohmygod_.” Clarke is too taken aback by the sight in front of her to react like she probably should (which would be getting the fuck out of that room and leaving Raven to whatever the hell she just walked in on).

Lexa walks in after Clarke curiously, freezing in place behind her when she sees Raven hidden beneath bed sheets and Anya shielding herself behind the bed.

“… oh my god.”

“Jesus- Clarke!” Raven hisses, “Get out!”

Clarke’s eyes widen, “Um- right-” she backs out obediently, shoving Lexa out of the room with her and closing the door quickly behind her.

When she turns around, Lexa is staring at the door in stunned silence, eyes eventually meeting Clarke’s.

“Was that-” she pauses, looking back to the door, “That wasn’t…”

“It was Anya.” Clarke confirms, the image burnt so deeply into her brain that there’s no denying what she just witnessed, “It was definitely Anya.”

It’s then that Clarke remembers Raven’s mysterious sexual encounter, pieces of the puzzle finally coming together.

“… _oh my god_ that’s who she slept with!” Clarke exclaims, turning around then and banging the door, “You little shit! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“Clarke-” Lexa’s grabs Clarke’s arm, tugging the girl away from the door lightly, “Maybe now’s not the time.”

“This is so weird.” Clarke mumbles, allowing Lexa to pull her back to her room, Lexa swiping up her mug of Satan Stew as they pass the kitchen, “I mean- this is weird, right? Our best friends are fucking.”

“Yes, it’s weird.”

“Raven’s straight.”

“I’m not certain that’s completely correct.”

“Well, she _has_ been.” Clarke frowns, climbing back into her bed and making room for Lexa at her side, “You didn’t know, did you?”

“I knew Anya was seeing someone.” Lexa says, “I didn’t know who it was.”

“Oh _man_ Bellamy is going to be so mad.”

“But he didn’t even date Anya.”

“He liked her, though. And Raven knew. Plus he’s got all those repressed feelings for Raven as well.” Clarke grimaces, “Trust me. The guy has a fragile ego. His reaction won’t be pretty.”

Lexa sighs, reaching over to Clarke’s bedside table and retrieving the two mugs, “Well, here’s hoping he doesn’t find out any time soon.”

Clarke scowls as Lexa holds out her mug to her with an expectant look, “Dammit.” She huffs, “I was hoping you’d forgotten.”

The other girl laughs, shaking her head, “No.” she says, forcing Clarke to take her mug, “Now drink up.”

* * *

Clarke does eventually drink the rest of the remedy, after much gagging and many complaints, and she ends the day passed out with her head in Lexa’s lap while some movie plays on her laptop.

Octavia comes home eventually, hollering out an announcement for dinner and entering Clarke’s bedroom to check on her as well as question why she just ran into Anya in the kitchen.

Lexa takes that as her cue to leave, ordering Clarke to drink another cup of her remedy later despite knowing there’s literally zero chance of Clarke doing as she says. Anya leaves with Lexa, and by then Octavia has managed to put two-and-two together and is immediately quizzing Clarke on the day’s occurrences as she stuffs her face with pizza and Clarke gloomily eats her soup.

“So what happened to _you_ Miss Raven ‘strictly dick’ Reyes?” Octavia says when Raven gathers the courage to wander out of her room, most likely giving into the temptation of the pizza waiting for her.

Raven immediately glares at Clarke, the blonde raising her arms in response.

“She guessed.” Clarke says, “I just confirmed.”

“You know if you want to be sneaky,” Octavia starts, grinning at Raven, “Maybe you shouldn’t have your fuck buddy over in the middle of the day.”

Raven groans, settling on a stool and hanging her head in her hands, “I hate you.”

Maybe it’s the fact that Clarke herself isn’t feeling 100% right now, but she takes pity on her friend, kicking at Raven’s legs lightly, “Hey, it’s not a big deal.” she says softly, “So she’s who you slept with after Lexa’s party?”

Raven nods, “I was drunk.”

“Well you weren’t drunk today…” Octavia coaxes, “Come on, Rey. Just tell us what’s going on.”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Raven huffs, “I mean- yeah I thought I was straight but then this thing with Anya happened and then it happened again and it’s just kept… happening. I don’t know, okay?”

“Hey, I’m just glad it’s not Bellamy again.” Octavia shrugs, “Explore your Sapphic desires all you like.”

“Don’t mention Bell.” Raven mumbles into her hands, “He’s going to fucking murder me when he finds out.”

“He’ll be fine.” Octavia says, pausing then and grimacing, “Well- I mean- after a bit. He’ll probably get shouty first, you know what he’s like.”

“So, do you like her?” Clarke asks then, watching Raven curiously, “I mean, I’m guessing you do seeing as this is apparently a thing now.”

“I guess?” Raven says, “I mean… yeah. Kinda. I think. I dunno.”

Clarke laughs, having to pause for a moment as her laughs turn into a coughing fit.

Raven pats her on the back lightly and Clarke collects herself, taking a breath.

“Well, you know what this means?” she says.

“What?”

“Now that you’re apparently _not_ so straight,” Clarke shrugs, a teasing smile on her lips, “I’m just offended you never wanted to sleep with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm always saying sorry to you guys, but I'm so so so sorry! I did have this chap almost ready, and then I had some personal things happen in my life that took their toll on me and writing came to an abrupt stop. But this week I was feeling it again and now I have a 10k+ chap for you!! So this is the first half, and the second should be up tomorrow night!!! (So don't treat this as a one complete chap bc it's supposed to lead into the next half, where things come to more of a head).
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments, there was an overwhelming amount of feedback on the last update and it made me smile reading all of your thoughts and yeah, thank you guys for being a lovely little thing to brighten up my day! Hopefully my updates can do a bit of the same for you :) Let me know what you thought of this one! And see you soooon!
> 
> P.S. shout out to those of you that figured out Anya/Raven lmao, ya got me ;) Catch me on debnamridley on tumblr if you need me!


	9. Chapter 9

Clarke’s turn to take care of Lexa comes in the form of drunken texts from the hockey player that lead to the blonde driving to some dingy bar to collect Lexa’s drunk ass before she ends up in a gutter somewhere.

She walks into the bar to find Lexa slumped in a booth with some of her friends, the girl’s expression brightening considerably when she spots Clarke approaching.

“Clarke!” Lexa exclaims, clambering over her friends in the booth to get out and stumble over to her, “What’re you doing here?”

Clarke laughs at Lexa’s slurred speech, rolling her eyes, “You asked me to come get you.”

“Oh. Yes I did that.” Lexa nods firmly (although Clarke’s not sure she actually remembers making the request). A wide smile traces her lips, the hockey player stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Clarke in a tight hug, head burrowing into the crook of Clarke’s neck.

“God, how much did you drink?” Clarke says, smelling the alcohol on the girl in her arms.

“Too much.” Lexa mumbles, lips brushing Clarke’s neck lightly, “Can we go?”

“Don’t you want to say goodbye to your friends first?”

“No, they won’t let me leave otherwise.”

“… okay.” Clarke laughs, shaking her head in disbelief, and pulling back from Lexa, “Come on, then.”

She’s surprised when Lexa takes her hand in her own, the hockey player leaning on Clarke slightly as they exit the bar and head for Clarke’s car. When they get inside Lexa fiddles with the radio for a while before settling on a station and falling back into the passenger seat with a huff.

Clarke can feel green eyes staring at her and fights off a smile. She was wondering when she’d see this version of drunk!Lexa again.

“What?” she asks, briefly looking to Lexa.

Lexa grins, shrugging, “Nothin’.”

“Right.”

Lexa caves then (not that Clarke was really pushing for an explanation), “You’re really pretty.” She blurts out, cheeks reddening when Clarke looks to her.

“Thanks, Lexa.” Clarke laughs, feeling her own face heat up.

“So pretty.” Lexa sighs, “And talented. So talented.” She huffs, “You know I don’t even _like_ art much? I like candles; I don’t like art. I like _your_ art though. And I think I kinda like art more now because I like your art. Does that make sense?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “I think I get it.”

Lexa grins, seeming satisfied and shrinking down in the passenger seat, getting comfortable, “Good.”

Lexa’s drunken babble continues throughout the rest of the car ride and when they arrive at her building, Clarke helps the girl to her apartment. She doesn’t even give Lexa the chance to attempt to unlock her door this time, swiping the keys from Lexa’s pocket and taking on the task herself.

She smiles when she feels Lexa’s arms wrap around her waist as she unlocks the door, allowing the athlete to pull her into her.

“Can you stay?” Lexa asks softly, pressing a kiss to Clarke’s neck.

Clarke pushes open the door, unraveling herself from Lexa’s arms, “For a bit.”

Apparently this is a good enough answer for Lexa, and she grins and bounds into the apartment.

Clarke retrieves a glass of water for Lexa before she follows her to her bedroom, almost having to get a tall glass of her own when she finds Lexa stripping herself of her clothes.

_God dammit, Clarke, get yourself together. She’s drunk and it’s not like you haven’t seen this before._

“Guess what I found out today?” Lexa chirps, oblivious to Clarke’s attempts at avoiding staring at her body and sitting on her bed.

Clarke places Lexa’s water on the bedside table before strategically remaining out of reaching distance of the hockey player and heading to the dresser.

“What did you find out?” she asks, picking out one of Lexa’s larger shirts and holding it out for the girl to put on.

Thankfully, Lexa doesn’t fight the silent request for her to wear some form of clothing, taking the shirt and lazily pulling it over her head. When her head pops up out of the collar, hair messy and a bright smile on her face, she continues.

“Anya _likes_ Raven. Like feelings and all that.”

“She does? What did she say?”

Lexa’s apparently already bored of that conversation, her hands reaching out to grasp Clarke’s and tugging her closer to the bed, “Can we cuddle?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes up at Clarke pleadingly.

Clarke laughs at the hockey player’s lack of an attention span, “If you tell me what Anya said about Raven.”

Lexa’s smile widens and she releases Clarke’s hands to lie down on the bed, leaving room for Clarke to slide in next to her. She remains facing Clarke when the blonde settles down on the bed, reaching out and wrapping her arms around Clarke’s waist to bring her closer to her.

“You don’t wanna get changed?” Lexa asks, noticing that Clarke’s still in her jeans.

“No.” Clarke grins, “I don’t trust you to not get handsy if I get rid of any clothing.”

“I don’t get handsy.” Lexa mumbles out, frowning, “And you like it, anyway.”

“I do. Just not right now.”

Lexa huffs, but doesn’t fight it, “Can I kiss you, though?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“So yes?”

Clarke laughs, “Yes, fine.”

“Little kisses, though.” Lexa slurs, “I’ll be good.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, unable to help the giggles that escape her when Lexa pulls her in closer and peppers kisses across her face. When Lexa seems content, she pulls back, a shit-eating grin tracing her lips.

“Happy, now?” Clarke laughs.

“Yep.”

“Great. Now tell me about Anya.”

Lexa pauses, frowning as she attempts to recall her night’s antics, “ _Well_ , she was saying that she wants to take Raven on a date. But she’s not sure Raven will go for it.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. She was being all weird.” Lexa scrunches up her nose, “I’m not used to Anya having feelings.”

“She _is_ human.”

“I don’t believe it.” Lexa declares, smiling at the soft laugh she receives, “Does Raven like Anya?”

“I think so.” Clarke sighs, shrugging, “I just think her head’s a bit scattered.”

“Hmm.” Lexa’s amusement sobers, her hand reaching out to brush Clarke’s hair over her shoulder lightly, “You know, Anya made it sound so easy.”

“What?”

“Being with someone.”

Clarke smiles sadly, shrugging, “For some people it _is_ easy.”

Lexa sighs, tongue running across her bottom lip and meeting Clarke’s gaze, “I guess so.”

They don’t speak much more past that, Lexa making tired (and drunken) attempts at conversation every now and then before she drifts off to sleep. When she hears Lexa’s breaths even out, Clarke attempts to disentangle herself from the girl and head home.

She’s just about to move off the bed when Lexa stirs, her hand reaching out to grasp Clarke’s before she can move away any further.

“Wait- where are you going?” Lexa whines sleepily, attempting to pull Clarke back to her.

“I’m going home.”

“Why?”

Clarke laughs softly, “Because you’re okay now. You don’t need me here.”

Lexa’s bottom lip juts out in a pout, looking ever the stubborn child, “But I _want_ you here.”

“Lexa, come on.” Clarke groans, “Don’t make me be the bad guy.”

“But I don’t want you to leave!”

“Yes, you do. That’s what we do.” Clarke says, “No sleepovers.”

“That’s a dumb rule.”

“You’re the one who made it.”

Lexa snorts, squinting at Clarke in disbelief and shaking her head, “I’m dumb, then.”

“Sometimes.” Clarke allows, laughing at the look of disappointment on Lexa’s face, “Trust me, Lex. You don’t want me here.”

“Yes I do.” Lexa grumbles, “I always do.”

“Tell me that when you’re sober and maybe we can talk about it.”

Lexa huffs, frowning at Clarke stubbornly, “Stay for a bit?”

Clarke wants to say yes, so badly.

But she only just managed to gather the will to leave _now_ , if she climbs back into bed with Lexa again she’s not sure she’ll ever be getting out of it.

“Get some sleep, Lexa. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She doesn’t give Lexa a chance to fight her further, softly untangling her hand from the girl’s and offering her a soft smile before making her way out of the room, deciding she’s made the right move.

Because if it takes Lexa being drunk for the girl to want her to stay the night, Clarke’s not sure she wants it at all.

* * *

 

After that night, things between Clarke and Lexa seem to shift. Lexa is more attentive than before, and her usual obsession with keeping to their ‘rules’ has become more lax than ever. It’s not a bad change. Hell, Clarke’s loving the less-restrained Lexa. But it doesn’t exactly help her with her attempts to stop deluding herself with the idea that someday soon Lexa might decide she wants to be more than what they are.

If things just didn’t work so _easily_ between them, Clarke might be able to tell convince herself that this _is_ just casual and she’s happy with it like that. But no, apparently Clarke just has a thing for setting herself up for a fall.

It’s easy, and comfortable and everything with Lexa just feels so right that Clarke’s about to slap the girl in the face for not seeing how well they could work together.

Clarke, Octavia and Raven are hosting a party at their apartment one night and Clarke decides to try her best to spend some time with people other than Lexa, which proves a difficult task seeing as Lexa insists on being… well _Lexa_ , which is all she really needs to be to have Clarke’s full attention these days.

She’s also looking particularly attractive tonight, all dark eyeliner and clean-cut clothing, which only serves to make Clarke want to call it a night and drag Lexa to her bedroom.

When she spots Lexa cleaning up the kitchen sometime into the party, Clarke can’t help but give in to the magnetic pull to the girl.

“You don’t have to do that.” she says as she sidles up next to Lexa, resting back against the counter and watching her move about the space.

Lexa chuckles, tossing a stray can into the trash with surprising accuracy for someone who’s been drinking for the last three hours, “Well we both know you and your roommates aren’t going to do it.” She teases lightly, arching an eyebrow with a knowing upturn of her lips.

Clarke’s not really surprised by the girl’s cleaning, having picked up enough on Lexa’s strict attention to tidiness mere weeks into her time studying at her place.

“Are you calling me a slob?”

“Are you about to pretend you’re not?” Lexa responds, approaching Clarke until she’s standing right in front of her.

Clarke grins, “Well not all of us had drill sergeants inspecting our room growing up.”

“My parents weren’t drill sergeants.”

“That’s where you get it from, though, isn’t it?” Clarke teases, “Your parents totally had you keeping your room spotless.”

“It’s important to show a sense of pride on your belongings.”

“How very textbook of you.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, “You know, you could learn something from having a proper organizational routine.”

“I kind of like my mess.” Clarke says, “But thanks for the tip, Professor Woods.”

Lexa’s soft laugh makes Clarke smile, and she reaches out to toy with the bottom of Lexa’s shirt.

“ _Anyway_ , just throwing it out there…” she starts, “If the soldier in you isn’t _too_ terrified of the idea of a few creases in your clothing,” Clarke grins, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of Lexa’s mouth, “You should come find me later.”

She lightly pushes Lexa back, enjoying the flustered expression on her face before turning on her heel and moving off to join another conversation.

* * *

 

Lexa does find Clarke later, and by ‘later’, that is literally only thirty-minutes after Clarke left her in the kitchen.

Clarke is collecting a jumper from her bedroom when she opens the door to leave and finds herself being pushed right back in, Lexa’s lips on her own and the hockey player’s arms wrapping around her waist as she kicks the door closed behind them and wastes little time in getting Clarke to the bed.

When they rejoin the party, neither girl is looking quite as put-together as before, hair mussed and wearing smug smiles as they part ways to at least attempt to converse with other people for the night.

Clarke spots Bellamy watching her from the couch and decides to make her way over to her friend, collecting a drink as she passes the kitchen and eventually perching down next to him. She realizes she’ll regret this action the moment she registers the knowing look that Bellamy is wearing.

“Did you have fun?” Bellamy asks, fighting a grin.

“Hm?” Clarke does her best attempt at an innocent expression, following Bellamy’s pointed gaze to where Lexa is standing in conversation with Lincoln, finding the hockey player’s eyes trained on her as she speaks with her friend. Clarke offers Lexa a soft smile before turning back to Bellamy, eyes narrowing at his smug expression, “Shut up.” She mumbles, reaching out to shove the boy lightly.

Bellamy laughs, “I didn’t say anything.” He says, raising his hands in surrender. He takes a swig of his beer and regards Clarke with that same quiet smile again, making the blonde roll her eyes.

“What?” she huffs.

“You two work well together.”

Clarke pauses, unable to help the small smile that tugs at her lips at that, “Yeah, well,” she huffs, eyes falling to the cup in her hand and taking a drink, “Try telling her that.”

Bellamy grins, shaking his head, “Come on, Princess. Where’s the fight in you?”

“I’m just taking what I can get.”

“She likes you.” Bellamy states confidently, his gaze back on where Lexa’s own eyes keep straying to Clarke, “A lot.”

The snort that Clarke emits is anything but graceful, “And you know Lexa _so well_.” She says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Bellamy doesn’t flinch at his friend’s dry response, simply shrugging, “Ask Lincoln, then.” He says, “You’ve got that girl wrapped around your finger.”

“She’s not interested in a relationship.”

That makes Bellamy laugh, but before he can continue Octavia is jumping in-between them on the couch, wearing mischievous smile as she looks between her brother and her best friend.

“Whatcha gossiping about?”

Bellamy grins at Clarke, visibly enjoying how pained the blonde looks by the whole conversation, “Just trying to get to the bottom of this whole Lexa situation.”

“Ooh, do continue.” Octavia says, resting her chin in her hands and staring at Clarke in interest.

Bellamy does as he’s told, swigging back his beer before continuing, “So, Clarke, can I ask you a question?”

“You’re going to ask me no matter what I say.” Clarke grumbles.

“True.” Bellamy nods, regarding her with that annoying smirk again, “Have you been on a date with _anyone_ since you started whatever you’re doing with Lexa?”

“… no.”

“Have you slept with anyone else?”

“That’s kind of none of your busin-”

“So no?”

Clarke glares at Bellamy, refusing to answer the question.

“What about Lexa?” Bellamy pushes, “She seeing anyone other than you?”

“Well she’s not really ‘seeing’ me.”

“Sure she’s not.” Octavia chimes in, shrugging, “You just spend most days together and take care of one another when one of you is drunk off her ass or bed ridden. That’s _totally_ normal for two people who are just in it for sex.”

Bellamy looks positively thrilled at having his sister on his side, and Clarke is straight up considering leading the two out to the balcony and launching them off it.

“So?” Bellamy says, “Has Lexa been seeing anyone else?”

Clarke’s jaw tightens in irritation, eyes falling to her drink, “Not that I’m aware of.” She bites out.

Bellamy and Octavia share a look, and Clarke is seconds away from following through on her fantasy of throwing two Blake siblings overboard.

“Congratulations, Clarke.” Bellamy says, smile widening, “You have a girlfriend.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, hating how much she _wishes_ that were true, “No, I don’t.”

“Well, Lexa might not be aware of it yet.” Octavia allows, “But I’m sure she’ll come around. You guys are literally already there, just without the title.”

“We’ve never even been on a date.”

“Yeah, you just jumped straight into domesticity.” Octavia teases.

At Clarke’s glare, Octavia decides to rein it back a bit, her expression softening.

“Hey, we’re just messing with you.” She says, “You know I was the first to tell you not to expect much from Lexa after she told you where she stands. But the way she acts with you? I dunno. I think this is kinda one of those cases where her actions are speaking a hell of a lot louder than her words.”

“Yeah, well,” Clarke huffs, shrugging, “So long as her words are _still_ ‘I don’t want a relationship’, actions don’t really matter, do they?”

* * *

 

Clarke spends the rest of the night mingling amongst friends, the party remaining at a relatively casual level, which is actually a nice change from the usual frat party. She doesn’t cross paths with Lexa again until she’s out on the balcony with a very high Jasper and Monty, entertaining herself with the two-man show that is the best friends’ interactions as they stuff their faces with the pizza they ordered mid-munchies.

She doesn’t notice Lexa joining them until her legs are being lifted and Lexa is sitting down on the chair where they had been resting, placing Clarke’s legs in her lap instead.

Clarke offers Lexa a small smile in greeting, her mind still on her conversation with Bellamy and Octavia, “How’s it going in there?”

“Murphy just challenged Lincoln to a shot contest.” Lexa drawls, an amused smile tugging at her lips, “Last I checked Lincoln was saying no.”

“Oh, god.” Clarke groans, “I swear if Murphy turns this into a Frat thing I’ll murder him.”

Lexa just chuckles, her fingers dancing over Clarke’s legs lightly and attention turning to where Monty and Jasper are laughing together at something neither girl has any hope of understanding. She looks back to Clarke with a questioning expression and Clarke nods, confirming the unasked question.

Clarke watches as Lexa absentmindedly traces patterns along her legs, attempting to read just what the hell is going on in the other girl’s mind.

She wants to ask Lexa to stay the night, hopes that in light of Bellamy and Octavia’s encouragement, she’ll find it in her to ask Lexa and maybe receive the answer she wants.

“You have a game tomorrow, right?”

Lexa nods, looking over at Clarke with a soft smile, “In the morning.”

“Right.”

“Why?”

Clarke shrugs, “Just…. I was thinking-”

_“Are you kidding me?!”_

Lexa and Clarke’s heads snap up at the furious voice, looking inside the apartment to find Bellamy storming out of the hallway, a flustered Raven following him and an aggravated Anya behind her.

“Oh, shit.” Clarke mumbles, quickly springing out of her chair and moving back inside, Lexa following behind her.

“Bellamy- wait-” Raven reaches out for Bellamy only to have the boy whip around, and Clarke’s not sure she’s ever seen him look so furious.

“This is a fucking joke, right?! You two?!”

Raven stumbles over her words, eyes looking anywhere but at Anya, who is standing next to her stoically, “I mean… it’s not- we’re not _together-_ ”

“Is this the first time?”

The music playing from the speakers is the only thing challenging Bellamy’s voice, everyone at the party’s attention on the trio at the center of the drama. Octavia and Lincoln are making quick work of ushering people out of the apartment, but Bellamy doesn’t look like he cares about his audience, attention focused straight on Raven.

Clarke hovers near the trio, unsure whether to intervene or let it play out.

Raven is hesitating with her answer, “… no.” she admits, stepping forward again, “Bell- I’m sorry-”

“You’ve made me look like a fucking moron!”

“Calm down, Bellamy.” Anya drawls, visibly irritated by the boy’s dramatics, “It’s not a big deal.”

Bellamy pauses, only sparing Anya a single, fuming glare before he looks back to Raven, “I can’t believe you.”

Clarke steps forward then, reaching out for Bellamy’s wrist in hopes to calm him down, “Bellamy… no one was trying to hurt you-”

Bellamy turns on Clarke then, pulling away from her touch, “You knew?”

Clarke freezes under Bellamy’s betrayed gaze.

“Did you know, Clarke?” Bellamy bites out.

Bellamy’s closer now, towering over her, and Clarke sees Lexa step forward at his threatening proximity.

“I… yes.” She nods, “I knew.”

Bellamy lets out a bitter laugh, “ _Wow_.” He shakes his head in disbelief, stepping back from Clarke and looking to Raven, “I guess the joke’s on me then, isn’t it?”

Raven doesn’t say anything, looking like she’s torn between attempting another round of apologies or giving up altogether.

Bellamy doesn’t give her the chance to make her decision, though, and with a final livid glance he makes his exit out of the apartment.

* * *

 

After that, it’s safe the say the party is brought to a premature end, with those who had stuck around eventually making their awkward departures.

Octavia goes out in search of Bellamy, and Clarke’s not sure where Raven bolted to, but the fact that Anya followed her provides some level of comfort. Phone calls and texts go ignored by Raven and eventually Clarke gives up, knowing that when Raven’s ready to talk she’ll be there.

She and Lexa stay up with Lincoln until Octavia returns. When she walks through the door she looks crestfallen and offers little information, her expression telling enough that Bellamy probably caught on that she knew as well and let loose.

Clarke can’t help the guilt she feels over the part she played in the situation.

She’d expected anger from Bellamy when he inevitably found out, sure. But the genuine pain in his expression that came from it? _That_ , she hadn’t expected. She’s not entirely sure even _Bellamy_ knows what he’s upset about; the fact that Raven slept with Anya or that fact that Anya slept with _Raven_.

Clarke is wandering about her room scatter-mindedly, taking off her makeup and getting changed while Lexa sits perched on her bed watching her in silence.

“How do you think Raven is?” Lexa asks eventually, breaking Clarke out of her thoughts.

“Honestly? I have no idea.” Clarke sighs, “I know she acts like a hard-ass but… I don’t know. Bellamy means a lot to her, and I don’t think she’s even figured out _what_ she’s doing with Anya yet. She hasn’t exactly been the most talkative person when it comes to all that.”

“Bellamy will get over it, though.” Lexa says, “Don’t you think?”

Clarke winces, “I don’t know. I mean- I didn’t expect _that_ big of a reaction. None of us did.” She lets out an exhausted breath, running her hands through her hair, “God, Raven looked like she was about to cry.”

Lexa reaches out, catching Clarke’s hand and stopping the girl from her pacing, bringing Clarke to stand in front of her, “What about you? Are _you_ okay?”

The question stumps Clarke, and the genuine concern written on Lexa’s features only manages to remind her just how fucked she is when it comes to her budding feelings for the girl.

“I’m… fine.” She answers unsurely, “Just worried, I guess.”

“You know this isn’t your problem to fix, right?” Lexa says softly, “You don’t need to carry this.”

Clarke hates it. Hates how Lexa just _knows_ that her stomach is currently reeling with guilt over the whole situation. Honestly everything would be easier if Lexa didn’t just _get it_.

If she didn’t just _get her._

It just makes it that much harder to stop convincing herself that Lexa cares.

“I knew about it, though.” Clarke says, “And I didn’t tell Bellamy.”

“It wasn’t your responsibility to tell him.”

“He was so mad at me.”

“He was mad at everyone, Clarke. The situation was embarrassing for him.”

“But I should have-”

“What? Told Bellamy and betrayed _Raven’s_ trust? This was between Raven and Bellamy.” Lexa says, “Just let him cool down, he’ll understand.”

Clarke sighs, peering down at their connected hands, “You know you didn’t have to hang around tonight.”

“I wanted to.” Lexa says simply, "I wouldn't just leave you, Clarke."

Lexa pauses then, and when Clarke looks up she finds hesitance written across the other girl’s features.

“What?”

“Just…” Lexa swallows, avoiding Clarke’s gaze, “I was thinking…”

“Lexa.” Clarke’s brings a hand up to cup Lexa’s face, forcing the girl to look up at her, “What?”

There’s redness to Lexa’s cheeks, and the hockey player shrugs in an attempt at nonchalance, “Just… if you’ll have me,” she murmurs, “I was thinking that I’d like to stay here tonight. With you.”

Clarke doesn’t respond immediately, honestly taken aback by the fact that here Lexa is offering what she’s spent the night trying to get the courage to ask of her.

At Clarke’s lack of response, Lexa immediately goes to backtrack, “I mean- I know it’s crossing a line but-”

Lexa’s cut off by Clarke’s lips on her own, and the hockey player only takes a beat before she’s chasing Clarke’s lips in a deeper kiss, her hands resting at Clarke’s hips as she relaxes into Clarke’s touch.

It’s a different kiss to what Clarke’s used to with Lexa; softer and less eager, both girls happy to take their time exploring one another’s mouths and losing themselves to the feel of one another. Clarke doesn’t know how but she finds herself in Lexa’s lap, and it’s only the feel of Lexa’s smile against her lips that brings some semblance of reality back to her.

“I thought we didn’t ‘do’ sleepovers?” Clarke breathes out, cursing herself for the comment the moment it leaves her mouth.

But instead of changing her mind at the reminder like Clarke expects, Lexa just kisses her again, arms wrapping around Clarke’s waist and pulling her in closer.

“That was a dumb rule, anyway.”

* * *

 

When Clarke wakes the next day, it’s in Lexa’s arms, and despite the memories of the drama of the night before flooding back to her, she can’t fight off a smile over how right it feels waking to Lexa’s body entangled with her own.

She lies there for a while, making the most of the moment until she feels Lexa stirring behind her. She rolls over in Lexa’s arms to face her, offering her a soft smile when she meets green eyes.

“Mornin’.” Lexa greets groggily, pulling Clarke closer and burrowing her head into Clarke’s neck.

Clarke feels Lexa place a soft kiss to her skin, and for once, she doesn’t hate the way her stomach flips at the affectionate action, “Hey.”

“What’s the time?” Lexa mumbles against her neck.

Clarke manages to stretch over to retrieve her phone without leaving Lexa’s arms, glancing at the screen, “Eight.”

She feels Lexa sigh, “Okay.”

“Do you have to leave soon?”

“Unfortunately.” Lexa sighs again, shifting back slightly so she can look at Clarke, “I should probably try to get in contact with Anya beforehand. Check in that she’ll actually show up.”

“You think she will?”

“She’s never missed a game before.”

Clarke nods, her fingers tracing over Lexa’s arm tattoo lightly, “I hope Raven’s with her.”

Lexa hums out her agreement, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good.” Clarke answers genuinely, “How about you?”

The question comes out uneven; Clarke unable to help but wonder if Lexa is as convinced staying over was a good idea now as she was the night before.

Lexa pulls back from Clarke’s neck, smiling softly at her, “I’m good.”

“You don’t regret staying the night?”

“No.” Lexa’s says softly, “It’s quite convenient, actually.”

“Why’s that?”

Lexa’s smile widens, her hold on Clarke tightening, “ _Because_ ,” she starts, rolling them over so Clarke is on her back. She rests on her elbows, lips hovering over Clarke’s, “Now I don’t have to wait to do this.”

Clarke grins as Lexa’s nose brushes against hers lightly, feeling Lexa’s lips brush her own and hand cupping the back of Lexa’s neck to coax the girl to close the distance. When their lips do meet, Clarke decides waking up with Lexa is worth all the blurred lines in the world.

* * *

 

The pair waste a considerable amount of time gathering the willpower to leave bed that morning, only finally kicking into action when Lexa’s nearing facing certain death at the hand of her coach if she doesn’t show up for warm-ups.

After finding Raven still unreachable, Clarke decides to go to Lexa’s game in hopes that just maybe the mechanic will show up with Anya. She accompanies Lexa back to her apartment so she can get ready for her game, lounging around the girl’s bed while she waits, when Lexa’s phone begins buzzing with a call.

Assuming it’s probably Anya or one of Lexa’s teammates wondering where she is, Clarke doesn’t think twice before shifting over in the bed and swiping up the device. Luckily, she checks the caller ID before answering, because what Clarke sees is definitely the _last_ thing she was expecting, and her heart immediately sinks like an anvil thrown off a rooftop as the picture on the screen stares up at her.

Lexa’s arms are wrapped around an adorable brunette, her lips pressed to the girl’s cheek and eyes sparkling with an affection that Clarke thought was reserved for her, and as the phone keeps ringing Clarke's already feeling the dread over what she doesn't know biting at her heels.

_Who the fuck is Costia?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo here is part 2. I feel like after that cliffhanger you guys won't be as enthusiastic lmao I'm so sorry. But woah, the comments left behind on last update were all so nice to read, thank you guys for being just genuine gems to write for. It's awesome opening the comments and seeing paragraphs, I appreciate you putting in the time to tell me what you liked so much, even if it's a tiny comment! So those big ones are just extra lovely to read (and I feel even worse for ending the chap like this now). I told you things were coming to a head! :S 
> 
> Next chap we'll see how Clarke's going to play this out, and also the mess that Raven/Bellamy/Anya triangle has left behind for those friendships. Btw I'm really glad you guys are liking the side stories going on in the fic! I was unsure whether people would be interested in it, but it just doesn't feel normal having the side characters' lives be action-free lmao this is college we're talking about.
> 
> Anyway let me know what you thought of this update :) I'll see you guys soon! xx


	10. Chapter 10

The phone rings out, and the image of Lexa and Costia is gone. Not that it matters, seeing as it’s already been burnt into Clarke’s brain. She sits there on Lexa’s bed in stunned silence, staring at the phone while her stomach continues to churn over what the hell she’s just stumbled upon.

It’s only when she hears the shower switch off that Clarke kicks into gear, placing the phone back on Lexa’s bedside table.

Lexa sends her a soft smile when she walks back into the room, oblivious to the current confusion swimming through Clarke’s mind.

“You missed a phone call.” Clarke says, deciding to just see how Lexa plays it.

“Probably Anya.” Lexa mumbles, swiping up her phone.

Clarke watches as Lexa looks at the device, and she’s honestly not sure how to take the reaction that she sees cross the girl’s features. She notably pales, and Clarke can see Lexa’s composure cracking as the girl’s eyes dart to Clarke briefly before snapping back to her phone.

The guilt in her gaze is enough to let Clarke know that this is as bad as she thinks it is.

“Are you okay?” Clarke prods, fighting the urge she has to jump straight to the anger part.

“Yes.” Lexa answers immediately, swallowing the lump in her throat before managing to salvage some form of nonchalance and placing her phone back down.

“You don’t want to call them back?” Clarke asks as Lexa turns her back to her and moves to her wardrobe.

Lexa shakes her head, “It’s fine.”

Clarke doesn’t say anything past that, but Lexa barely even notices as she gets ready in almost a zombie-like state, only making conversation again when they have to leave and she appears to remember Clarke’s actually there.

The walk to the hockey field is relatively quiet, with Clarke just holding back the urge to ask about the phone call while Lexa’s mind is blatantly elsewhere. The fact that Lexa hasn’t even noticed how Clarke’s mood has changed only serves to make the blonde feel even shittier about the impending drama.

When they reach the field, Anya is quick to spot them and come jogging over to the pair from where the team are warming-up.

“You’re late.” Anya grumbles out to Lexa when she reaches them, “Indra’s pissed.”

“Indra’s always pissed.” Lexa responds in kind, apparently having no time for her teammate either.

Anya just rolls her eyes at Lexa’s mood and turns her attention to Clarke. She looks like she hasn’t slept at all, and if the firm frown that she’s wearing is anything to go by, things with Raven last night didn’t improve after she ran off.

“How are you?” Clarke asks, deciding to step lightly.

“Yeah. Fine.” Anya says cagily, “You heard from Raven?”

“No.” Clarke frowns, “I was hoping you were with her.”

Anya’s hard expression falters then, “No.” she mumbles, shrugging, “I went after her but she just ignored me and bolted.”

Clarke lets out a defeated breath, “Of course she did.”

“Yeah…” Anya looks awkward, glancing to Lexa briefly before looking back to Clarke, “Just- when you find her… can you let me know how she is?”

“Sure.” Clarke nods, looking to Lexa who is barely paying any attention to the conversation.

Anya smiles halfheartedly in thanks, “Anyway, I better get out there.” she sighs, reaching out to clip Lexa over the head and snap her captain out of her daze. She receives a harsh scowl from Lexa in return, but Anya barely bats an eyelid at it, “Get your ass into gear. I’m not losing today.”

Lexa’s scowl deepens and she watches as Anya heads back out to their team, only remembering Clarke is standing right there when the blonde clears her throat.

“Sorry. I should go.” Lexa says then, finally meeting Clarke’s gaze, “If you want to find Raven, I get it.”

If it weren’t for the phone call, Clarke would think Lexa was being considerate; but now she’s certain Lexa’s just focused on ridding herself of Clarke’s presence all together.

“Yeah.” Clarke responds, keeping the hurt from her tone, “I think I’ll do that.”

Lexa nods, offering Clarke a weak smile, “Well, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Maybe.”

Lexa must _finally_ have registered Clarke’s off-mood (about fucking time), as her brow furrows at the cold response. But apparently she doesn’t care enough to ask what’s wrong, and instead of pushing the conversation further she just nods again, turning on her heel and heading towards the field while Clarke considers throwing something at the back of her stupid head.

Clarke doesn’t need any more reason to leave, and as Lexa huddles up with her team she takes her exit and starts the walk back to her apartment, cursing how things have shifted so much in the matter of hours.  

* * *

 

When Clarke returns to her apartment, she finds Octavia eating at the kitchen counter eating her breakfast. The girl’s eyes dart up in alarm at the sound of someone entering before she sees Clarke and relaxes again.

“Thought you were Raven.” She mumbles out in explanation, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

“I’m guessing that means she’s not here, then.” Clarke sighs, closing the door behind her and walking over to the kitchen, dropping her keys on the counter, “Is Lincoln here?”

“Showering.” Octavia nods, “I thought you were going to Lexa’s game?”

Clarke’s face falls, the blonde shrugging, “Figured I’d try to find Raven instead.”

“Hm.”

“What?” Clarke frowns, recognizing the unhappy expression on Octavia’s face.

“Nothing.” Octavia hums, moving her spoon through the cereal in her bowl, “Just… do you really think you should go looking for her?”

“She was upset. She needs us.”

“Well, count me out.”

Clarke watches Octavia as the girl grumpily shovels another spoonful of cereal into her mouth, “O… come on.” She starts softly, “Don’t be mad at her.”

“Why not?” Octavia says, dropping her spoon into the bowl and turning her full attention to Clarke now, jaw set, “Bellamy’s right. Raven should have told him. _I_ should have told him.”

“None of us knew it was that big of a deal.”

“I should have. I’m his sister.” Octavia persists, “And Raven should have, as well. Clearly she hasn’t been completely honest about whatever happened between her and Bell when they hooked up.”

“You think that’s what’s going on?”

Octavia scoffs, “Well I doubt he’d be that mad about _Anya_. Sure, he’s into her, but I he barely knows her.” She says, “You saw it; he was yelling at Raven. It was all about her.”

Clarke sighs, shrugging, “I mean, it’s _Bellamy_. Do you really think if he had feelings for Raven, he’d let her know about them?”

Octavia glares at Clarke stubbornly, “Raven should have known better.”

“You backed her, Octavia. We both did.”

“Yeah, and that was a mistake.” Octavia shakes her head, “Bellamy’s my brother. I can’t pick her over him.”

“You don’t have to ‘pick’ anyone. Raven’s your best friend.” Clarke says, “Don’t make this your fight.”

That manages to get Octavia to soften a little, but Clarke can see the stubbornness still lingering in her features as she huffs and gets up from her seat at the island.

“Do you want coffee?” Octavia asks, clearly done with the conversation.

It’s a good sign, really. Seeing as a more pissed off Octavia is likely to continue arguing until the other person gives in or storms off.

“Yeah, thanks.” Clarke murmurs, taking a seat at the island then as she waits for Octavia, “Have you heard from Bellamy?”

Octavia laughs, “Of course not. He’s too busy playing the big brother to ever actually open up to me.” She says, “I got a text from Murphy saying he’s pissed but he’s okay. Maybe you should go see him. At least he actually listens to you.”

“Sure.” Clarke mumbles, resting her head in her hands on the counter. She’s kind of happy to have things to keep her mind off of Lexa, anyway.

“Hey, Clarke.”

Clarke glances across the room to find Lincoln approaching, wearing a friendly smile as he comes to stand at the island, “You didn’t go to Lexa’s game?”

Clarke holds back a scowl at the reminder, instead turning her attention to the giant mug of coffee Octavia is sliding over to her, “I decided to look for Raven instead.”

(Not that Clarke has done anything resembling her excuse as of yet, but she’ll get there eventually).

Lincoln nods in understanding, clearly missing Clarke’s thinly veiled irritation at Lexa and wearing a charming grin that actually _does_ lighten her mood a little.

“Well, here’s hoping Lexa doesn’t choke without you.” He jokes, “Her need to impress you has had her playing better than ever.”

Clarke’s unable to hold back the bitter scoff, “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Octavia frowns, leaning forward on the island and regarding Clarke curiously, “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Did Lexa do something?”

“No.” Clarke mumbles, avoiding Octavia and Lincoln’s eyes.

“She did something.” Octavia confirms, then looking to Lincoln with a narrowed gaze, “What did she do?”

“Why’re you looking at _me_?” Lincoln laughs, “I don’t know anything.”

“She’s _your_ best friend.”

“I don’t control her.” He says, looking back to Clarke with a kind smile, “I’m sorry, though. Lexa has a habit of messing things up. Whatever she did, I’m sure she’s kicking herself for, if it helps.”

“Hm.” Clarke stares at her coffee, not really taking much comfort in Lincoln’s words.

Like Octavia said, Lexa is Lincoln’s best friend. Surely he’ll know what the deal is with this Costia girl.

“Lincoln.” She starts after a moment, garnering the boy’s attention from Octavia.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know who Costia is?”

Lincoln pauses at the name, his face giving Clarke the confirmation she was after.

“Uh, Costia?” He repeats, shifting on his feet and looking visibly less comfortable in the space than seconds before, “… yeah. I know her.”

“Who’s Costia?” Octavia frowns, looking between her boyfriend and Clarke.

“Some girl who called Lexa this morning.” Clarke mumbles, “Based on the caller ID, she’s not just a friend. Lexa froze up the moment she saw it.”

Octavia gapes, “You think she has a girlfriend?” she hisses, then turning to Lincoln, wearing a serious glare this time, “Does she?”

“What? No!” Lincoln splutters, “I mean- it’s- I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Octavia repeats in disbelief, “You don’t know if the girl you live with has a girlfriend?”

“Look… it’s…” Lincoln lets out a heavy breath, shaking his head, “It’s complicated. It’s not my place.”

“Lincoln.” Octavia bites out, “Spill it.”

“I can’t.” Lincoln says helplessly, “I don’t even know the full story, okay? You should just… you should talk to Lexa about it.” He looks at Clarke, guilt written on his features, “I’m sorry, Clarke. I don’t want to tell you something that isn’t accurate.”

Clarke feels an ounce of pity for the boy (while Octavia, who looks ready to throttle him, definitely doesn’t), “It’s okay.” She sighs, “I figured it was a long shot asking you anyway.”

“Just ask her.” Lincoln pushes, “She won’t lie to you.”

“Well she clearly hasn’t been completely honest up until now, has she?” Clarke snaps, seeing Lincoln flinch in response, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it.” Lincoln nods in understanding, ever the peacemaker, “But don’t judge too soon. Lexa’s not a bad person; she won’t have wanted to hurt you.”

“You know, if you just told Clarke what’s going on maybe she wouldn’t have to make judgments for herself.” Octavia drawls.

Lincoln looks almost ready to cave, guiltily glancing between his girlfriend and Clarke before deflating, “I’m sorry.”

“Great.” Octavia sighs, “Well, I guess you can go, then.” She says simply, nodding to the door.

“Wait- seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” Octavia confirms, “We can talk when I know if you’ve just let my best friend get fucked over or not.”

“Octavia-”

“Go.”

Lincoln looks at Octavia pleadingly, but when she just gestures to the door again, he gives up, making his exit and looking like a kicked puppy as he goes.

When Octavia turns back to Clarke, she shrugs at her friend’s bewildered expression, “Don’t get all judgey on me, it’s not like I’m gonna dump him.” She mutters, “So what’re you gonna do about Lexa?”

Clarke groans, head falling to the counter, “I don’t know.” She mumbles, “Right now I just want to leave it and focus on Raven and Bell.”

“Do you really think she could be dating someone else?”

“I guess it’d explain why she’s been so weird whenever I bring up exes.” Clarke huffs, lifting her head, “I don’t even want to talk about it.” She mumbles, looking to where her phone buzzes with a new text and relief washing over her when she sees Raven’s name on the screen.

**_Raven: I’m at work. Just give me the day._ **

“Raven’s at the shop.” Clarke says, although when she looks to Octavia, the girl is wearing a frown at the mention of her friend. “Guess that means I’ll go look for Bellamy.”

Octavia offers Clarke a soft smile, and Clarke hates the ounce of pity she reads in her expression, “Well when you want to talk about Lexa, I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, O.” Clarke sighs, getting up from the island, “You know what would make me feel better, though?”

“What?”

“You not being pissed at Raven.”

Octavia rolls her eyes, watching as Clarke shrugs and heads for the door, “I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

 

Clarke doesn’t have any luck finding Bellamy, as when she arrives at the frat house she only receives hungover grunts from his friends that translate into some weak explanation that he’s out with Murphy. Which isn’t exactly comforting, seeing as Murphy’s not particularly the poster-boy for being sensitive to an issue. Clarke just hopes he doesn’t leave Bellamy in a ditch somewhere.

When she gives up on her search she decides to avoid returning to the apartment, knowing it’ll probably just lead to Octavia asking about Lexa, so Clarke instead hides herself away in one of the art rooms on campus.

Sometime into the afternoon she receives a call from Lexa that she lets go ignored, and she does her best to push the girl out of her mind and focus on the work in front of her. She doesn’t have much luck, though, and Clarke ends up having to scrap one of her pieces completely after her mood manages to translate into her brush strokes and she makes what had previously been a painting she was proud of into one of the ugliest things in the room (which is saying something, with the amount of less-than talented students that take up art classes purely for credit).

Clarke’s spared from the risk of furthering the damage to any more pieces when her phone rings again, Bellamy’s face flashing up on her phone and the blonde scrambling to answer it.

“Bell?”

_“Hey, Princess.”_

Clarke rolls her eyes at the sound of Murphy’s voice, already not liking what she’s about to hear, “Murphy.” She bites out, “Why are you on Bellamy’s phone?”

_“Well- you see… I’m gonna need you to come get us-”_

_“Claaarke.”_ Comes Bellamy’s slurred voice in the background, _“Don’ listen to him. M’ fine.”_

Clarke groans, “What have you done to him?”

_“Hey! I haven’t done anything. Dude wanted to get drunk, I was just bein’ a good pal.”_

“It’s the middle of the fucking afternoon, Murphy.”

_“Heartbreak has no waiting time, Princess.”_ Murphy coos back teasingly, _“The sooner he drinks the pain away, the sooner he can get back to actually being fun.”_

Clarke’s jaw clenches and she takes a moment, letting out a frustrated breath, “I hate you so much.”

_“How sweet. So you coming to get us or what?”_

“Ever heard of Uber?”

_“I don’t think Uber even comes to this side of town. Anyway, Bellamy’s drunk ass would get me a bad rating; you’re our only hope Golden Girl.”_ Murphy says, _“And the only person he’d let me call. Dude’s gone full dark and broody on me; one guy looked at him before and he tried to punch him in the face.”_

“Where are you?” Clarke sighs, already beginning to pack up her things.

_“I’ll send you the address. Also can you bring some food? I’m fucken’ starving.”_

“Just make sure he doesn’t fight anyone.” Clarke grits, “I’ll be there soon.”

_“That’s my girl-”_

“Not your girl.”

_“Aw, don’t worry, Princess. I’ll give you a chance at the goods one da-”_

Clarke hangs up the phone before Murphy can make her headache any worse, already considering whether she can just pick up Bellamy and leave him in the middle of nowhere.

When she pulls up to the address Murphy sent her, she finds the pair sat on the curb, Bellamy looking worse-for-wear and Murphy having to practically wrestle him into Clarke’s car.

“Afternoon, Princess.” Murphy greets when he climbs into the passenger seat, Bellamy mumbling drunkenly and lying down in the backseat.

Clarke glares at the boy, pulling the car out and beginning the drive home, “What is wrong with you?”

“Me? Nothing.” Murphy wears a smug smile, “I’m great.”

“You realize you could have gotten Bell into serious trouble, right? Especially around _here_.” Clarke bites out, “You don’t take your upset friend to the shittiest part of town and get him drunk.”

Murphy scoffs, “Sorry, mother.” He rolls his eyes, “Like you’ve never drowned your sorrows. Does _Finn_ ring a bell?”

He has a point. Clarke isn’t exactly a role model when it comes to healthily dealing with her emotions (as demonstrated by her complete avoidance of Lexa today). But this isn’t about Clarke. And Bellamy’s tendency towards violence makes his sorrow drowning slightly more worrying.

“You’re supposed to look out for him.”

“And I am. By letting him get it out of his system.” Murphy reaches back to shove Bellamy jovially, “Tell Princess I’m a good friend.”

Bellamy waves his arm back weakly, “Clarke’s a good friend.” He slurs instead, “You’re Murphy.”

Clarke sends Murphy a pointed look, unable to help her own smug smile at the scowl the boy is sending her.

“Yeah, whatever.” Murphy mumbles, settling back into his seat.

When they arrive at the frat house, Clarke helps Murphy to haul Bellamy up the stairs and into his bedroom, Murphy dusting his hands of the drama the moment Bellamy hits his mattress.

“Well, my work here is done.” Murphy declares, going to pat Clarke on the back only to pause at her harsh scowl, hand hovering over her shoulder, “What? Do you really want _me_ here giving him a therapy session? That’s your area of expertise; I’m just the guy you call to get drunk.”

He’s right. Clarke really doesn’t want to spend any more time with him than necessary. Even if it _would_ be nice to see the boy show some level of compassion for his friend.

“Just go.” She grumbles in defeat, waving Murphy off and walking over to Bellamy.

She hears Murphy close the door behind him as he leaves, and she takes a seat on the floor next to Bellamy’s bed, reaching over to tap the boy’s shoulder to garner his attention.

Bellamy groans, rolling onto his side to face Clarke, “This is Murphy’s fault.”

“It’s always Murphy’s fault.” Clarke chuckles, “But you’re the idiot who let him take you out in the middle of the day. I didn’t even know he functioned in the daylight.”

Bellamy shrugs, “Least he shuts up when I tell him to. I just wanted to get out of here.”

A sad smile traces Clarke’s lips as silence settles between them, lost brown eyes looking back at her, “I’m sorry.” She says softly after a moment, reaching out to brush dark curls out of Bellamy’s eyes, “I didn’t think this would hurt you so much.”

Bellamy grunts, “I’m not hurt.” He mumbles out stubbornly, letting out a huff and rolling onto his back, glaring up at the ceiling, “Just figure, why not be the drunk frat guy I’m supposed to be?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’.”

“That’s a lie.”

Bellamy’s jaw tightens, his head lolling to the side to look at Clarke again, “You seen Raven?”

“She’s been MIA since last night.”

“I probably shouldn’t’ve yelled.”

Clarke’s surprised by the admission, having expected Bellamy to stick to his guns. He’s never exactly been one to back down from an opinion.

“It’s my fault anyway.”

“It’s not your fault, Bellamy.” Clarke frowns, “You didn’t do anything.”

“I dunno.” Bellamy lets out a heavy breath, breaking eye contact and turning his attention back to the ceiling as he sits in thought for a moment.

“You know…” he starts eventually, “I actually liked her. A lot.”

“Anya?”

(Clarke’s fairly certain he’s not talking about Anya; but she’s not about to let _Bellamy_ know just how unsubtle his reaction has been.)

“No.” Bellamy says, looking like the idea of opening up this much has left a bad taste in his mouth, “I mean Raven.”

Clarke nods in understanding, resting her head on her arms on the mattress, allowing Bellamy to decide whether he wants to continue or not.

He does. And after a few more moments of irritated silence, he pushes forward, letting out a bitter laugh.

“It’s fucken’ dumb.”

“No it’s not.”

He looks to Clarke, letting out a defeated sigh, “When you were dating Finn and she started hanging out here more… I dunno…it was nice, kinda. I mean- it’s Raven- so she’s usually being an ass-”

“So are you.” Clarke laughs, receiving an eye-roll from Bellamy and taking pride in the small upwards tug of his lips.

“Yeah. Whatever.” He grumbles, “Guess I started liking her. She didn’t put up with my shit and I could _actually_ talk to her. After fucking around for so long I was kind of liking the idea actually dating someone.”

“You never considered telling her this?”

Bellamy frowns, “Fuck no. Have you _met_ Raven?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “So you just got drunk and slept with her instead.”

“We weren’t drunk. It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh?”

That sparks Clarke’s interest, seeing as in every retelling _she’s_ heard, from both Bellamy and Raven, the blaming of alcohol and disgusted expressions of regret have played a large part.

“It just happened.” Bellamy grumbles, “Thought it meant she might be feeling something too but then the next day she wakes up, tells me it doesn’t mean anything, says _I_ clearly know that, ‘cos I’m just a frat guy looking for a fuck, and she bails.”

“Bell…” Clarke sighs, reaching out to squeeze Bellamy’s arm lightly, “I didn’t know it was like that.”

“Yeah of course you didn’t.” Bellamy says, “I wasn’t about to be _that_ guy, running after Raven like a fucken lapdog.” He huffs, “It’s just- she rejected me. Fine. Whatever. But then I meet Anya, and yeah it might not have been going anywhere but I was _trying_. And then there’s Raven, telling me I don’t have enough ‘depth’ for someone like Anya…”

“That’s just you and Raven, Bell. You guys are always on each other’s cases.” Clarke pushes, “She didn’t actually mean it-”

“You sure about that? Because if she actually took me seriously she wouldn’t have went and fucked Anya.” Bellamy snaps, “She thinks I’m just some dumbass in a frat. I’m a joke to her.”

Clarke decides not to give Bellamy any more excuses, because clearly this is a conversation to be had between him and Raven.

“Raven loves you, Bell.” Clarke sighs, “Clearly I don’t know the whole story with you guys, but I know that she wouldn’t have went out looking to hurt you. Sometimes people make mistakes.”

“What would you do?”

Clarke shrugs, “I’d hear her out.”

“I’m still angry.”

“Then be angry.” Clarke allows, “But eventually, when you’re ready, you should talk to her.”

Bellamy is quiet, but Clarke takes the somber expression on his face as a sign that he’s at least taken her advice on board.

“I’m going to go.” She says, squeeze Bellamy’s arm lightly, “Get some sleep and see how you feel tomorrow. You don’t have to see her unless you want to.”

Bellamy groans, “I’m gonna be hungover.”

“Probably.” Clarke laughs, getting up to leave, “You know who to blame?”

“Myself?”

“No.” Clarke scoffs, “Murphy. Always Murphy.”

That receives a soft laugh from Bellamy, and Clarke turns to leave, considering her part played.

“Clarke?”

Clarke comes to a stop at Bellamy’s mumbled call, turning around to face the boy once more, “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Based on the pained expression that still sits on Bellamy’s face, Clarke’s not sure she’s been much help anyway, but she nods anyway, offering her friend a soft smile, “Any time, Bell.”

* * *

 

When Clarke gets home, she finds her first strike of luck for the day in the sight of Raven’s keys on the kitchen counter, and as she makes a beeline for Raven’s room she hears Octavia’s voice coming from behind the door.

Clarke pauses at the voice, frowning and hesitating for a moment, unsure what she’s about to walk in on, before knocking.

“Guys?” she calls, opening the door and peering around it.

Octavia is lying on her stomach on the bed while Raven sits up against the headboard, the pair looking surprisingly at ease with one another considering the conversation Clarke had with Octavia earlier in the day.

She can’t help the furrow to her brow at the sight, briefly wondering if she’s stumbled into a parallel universe where Octavia _doesn’t_ hold marathon-like grudges, “Uh…”

“We talked.” Raven explains, catching onto Clarke’s confusion. She looks to Octavia as she says it, as though she’s still not so sure where she stands with the girl.

“I’m still pissed.” Octavia elaborates, shrugging, “And Raven has a shit-show to clean up.” She looks pointedly back at the girl before turning back to Clarke, “But there’s more important things to talk about.”

Clarke frowns, considering it safe enough to completely enter the room now. Octavia shuffles up the bed to make room for Clarke, the blonde settling near her feet on the mattress and letting out a sigh, “And what would that be?”

“Lexa.” Raven states, “O filled me in.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Seriously?”

“What? You’ve been off trying to fix everyone else’s problems, we’re not just gonna let _you_ get away with shoving your own shit to the side.” Octavia says, “You need to talk about it.”

“Not really.”

“Yes really. Have you talked to her?”

“No.”

Octavia and Raven share a look, Octavia deciding to take the lead, “Well… we might have done some stalking.” She says, “We found Costia on Facebook.”

Clarke groans, “Are you kidding me?”

“What? We knew _you_ wouldn’t do it.” Raven says, “Someone had to see what the chick’s deal is.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Well, _you_ are our business. We need to know if we have to beat anyone up or not.” Octavia quips, reaching over to pick up Raven’s laptop from the bedside table, “Look, if you don’t want to look into it, fine.” She sighs, waving the laptop temptingly in front of Clarke, “But aren’t you just a _little_ bit curious?”

Clarke’s eyes narrow at the laptop. She knows whatever she finds on the Facebook is just going to further all the ideas she’s been coming up with over who Costia could be to Lexa. It’s literally just _asking_ to be hurt, especially when she hasn’t even given Lexa a chance to explain.

But then there’s that nagging curiosity to know exactly _who_ this girl is that’s calling her. After all, she wants to be prepared for when she does have to face Lexa.

And she’s only human, so naturally Clarke gives into the temptation.

“Fine.” She mumbles, “Show me.”

* * *

 

“This was such a bad idea.” Clarke groans falling back onto the bed, and throwing out her arm to hit Octavia in reprimand, “Why’d you do this to me?”

“She’s not _that_ pretty.” Octavia offers, “I’d pick you over her any day.”

“Besides, there are barely any pictures of Lexa on here.” Raven adds, “That’s gotta mean something.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Lexa’s last Facebook post was like two years ago. The fact that she exists at all on Costia’s profile is major enough.”

“Well she’s not in Costia’s profile picture.” Raven shrugs, “I’m betting she’s an ex.”

“I don’t know.” Clarke sighs, “I just feel weird about it.”

“Look, Lexa probably just forgot to change the caller ID on her phone.” Octavia says, “Don’t freak out so soon.”

“You didn’t see how she was acting after the phone call.” Clarke shakes her head, “It was like I didn’t exist.”

“Maybe she wasn’t expecting Costia to call her.”

Raven nods, “Come on, Clarke. Do you really think Lexa’s the type to cheat on someone?”

“Well I didn’t think _Finn_ was the type so clearly I’m not the best judge of character.” Clarke mumbles out bitterly, “It’d make sense, though, if she has a girlfriend. I mean, I’d have my answer to why she’s so set on not dating me.”

“Well I think you should talk to her.” Octavia states, receiving an eye roll from Clarke in response.

“Oh yeah?” she scoffs, “Like _you_ would take that advice if you were me.”

(Clarke ignores the voice at the back of her head mentioning that only an hour ago, _she_ was encouraging Bellamy to do the same thing)

“But it’s not me.” Octavia coos, “And besides, Lexa’s been all over you for months. It doesn’t add up that she’d be loved up with someone else on the side.”

“Yeah. It’d be different if you guys were just sleeping together but all the other shit? She acts like your girlfriend.”

“Also Lincoln’s been calling me all day.” Octavia says, “It’d be nice to know if I’m freezing him out for a reason.”

“Hey, _you_ decided to freeze him out.” Clarke frowns, “Don’t blame me.”

“Come _on,_ Clarke. Why won’t you just go and talk to her?” Raven kicks at Clarke lightly, “All you’re gonna do is make yourself crazy thinking about it.”

“Just- let me handle it, okay?” Clarke huffs, “I’m processing it.”

“You can’t ‘process’ it if you don’t know what you’re processing.” Octavia says, “If you don’t go and see her, I will.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Raven nods, “And do you really want _us_ doing it for you?”

Clarke’s lip juts out in a stubborn pout, “Stay out of it.”

“Talk to her.” The pair responds in synch.

Clarke wants to fight them further, but she knows they’re not bluffing and will actually follow through on their threats. So instead she just lets out a frustrated groan, running her hands down her face.

“If I’m the other woman…” she starts, “I swear to God I’ll kick Lexa’s ass.”

“That’s the spirit!” Octavia cheers, “Go get answers.”

“Yeah, and if a beating is needed, make sure you let me know.” Raven says, “I’m still mad Octavia got to Finn first.”

“To be fair, it’s never too late to punch Finn.” Octavia shrugs, receiving a nod of agreement from Raven.

Clarke doesn’t respond, too busy formulating a plan of attack for Lexa.

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” she mumbles, “I can’t handle anymore conversations today.”

“We’ll allow it.” Octavia nods, “But it has to be tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And in the mean time,” Raven sighs, pulling her laptop over to her, “I vote we watch crappy reality shows and forget about our love lives.”

* * *

 

The next day, Clarke doesn’t, actually, follow through on her promise, and spends her time hiding out in her room in hopes that neither Octavia nor Raven will realize she hasn’t left to speak with Lexa yet.

Clarke’s not sure why she’s having such a ‘flight’ reaction to it all. Usually she’s pretty happy to jump into confrontation. But something about this situation has left her feeling unsteady and unsure how to move forward. 24 hours ago, she was getting her hopes up that Lexa was finally beginning to warm up to the idea of them dating. Now, Clarke’s not sure if the girl ever looked at her in that way at all.

Of course, talking to Lexa would be the best way to answer all her questions. But all Clarke _wants_ to do is lock herself away and leave reality outside where it can’t touch her.

Sure, Costia _could_ just be an ex.

But she also could be more.

And the idea that she’s let herself fall for Lexa while the girl has just been playing her? Clarke’s not sure she wants to face just how much that would hurt.

For once in her life, she thinks she’d prefer to be ignorant to the situation and pretend Lexa never happened at all. Because after Finn, she’s not so sure she could deal with having her trust messed around with all over again.

Lexa has sent a number of texts since yesterday that Clarke has managed to completely ignore. And her plan to hide away is going fairly well until Lexa apparently decides to take a more proactive approach and just invite herself over.

Clarke doesn’t hear the knock, and she’s sitting on her bed reading a book when her door opens. She looks up from her book and her stomach sinks immediately as she finds Lexa there, the hockey player offering her a soft smile as she closes the door behind her.

“Hey.” Lexa greets quietly, moving into the room.

Clarke watches her approach with a narrowed gaze, “Who let you in?”

“Octavia.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to her book and making a mental note to incite some form of revenge on Octavia later.

“I- uh… I’ve been trying to call you.” Lexa continues, hovering at the end of Clarke’s bed awkwardly.

“Oh. Sorry. Been busy.” Clarke shrugs offhandedly, “You knew where to find me, anyway.”

“Clarke…”

When Clarke continues to ignore her, Lexa lets out a sigh, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, “Clarke, please.” She says, reaching out to rest her hand on Clarke’s thigh, “Lincoln told me.”

Clarke glares at Lexa’s hand until the girl pulls it back, “Told you what?” she responds, feigning innocence and turning a page.

“Clarke, come on.” Lexa pushes, “Can you please look at me?”

Clarke’s jaw tightens, and she begrudgingly lowers her book, closing it and tossing it onto her bedside table, “Fine.” She grits, training her gaze on Lexa, “What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk about Costia.”

“Your girlfriend?”

Lexa pauses, and when she breaks eye contact with Clarke the other girl lets out a hollow laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You know, I don’t like cheaters, Lexa.”

That seems to hit a nerve in Lexa, and angry green eyes dart up to Clarke’s, “I’m not a cheater.”

Her harsh tone surprises Clarke, her brow furrowing at the amount of anger she’s managed to spark in Lexa at just one line, “Well, who is she then?” she responds, her own irritation only deepened by Lexa’s anger, “Because she looked like a lot more than just a friend.”

“We’re on a break.” Lexa admits, jaw set, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You’re on a break.” Clarke repeats, “And you didn’t think you should tell me that?”

“We’re not together, Clarke.” Lexa states, and Clarke hates how she’s using that stupid, ‘I know better than you’ tone as though she isn’t the one who fucked up here.

“So what? That gives you a right to string me along as a back-up for your girlfriend?”

“I didn’t tell you about Costia because I didn’t think it was important. I told you from the beginning that I didn’t want a relationship.”

That one hurts. If Clarke didn’t feel like she might end up crying if she gives herself over to the feeling of frustration and anger and _embarrassment_ over thinking for a second Lexa liked her, she’d probably start yelling. Or do _something_ to make Lexa feel half as shitty as she’s just managed to make her feel.

“Wow. You actually think _that_ means anything now?”

Lexa at least has the courtesy to look like she regrets the harsh response, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.” She says, “But you can’t be angry at me-”

“Don’t tell me how to feel, Lexa.” Clarke bites out, “You might have said you didn’t want a relationship when this started but you also did _nothing_ to stop it from heading there.”

This time, Lexa just takes it, mouth closing and jaw tightening in a begrudging acceptance of Clarke’s response.

“So if I’m just some quick fuck for you, why’d you break your own precious rule and stay the other night?” Clarke continues, “Actually, why’d you do any of it? Taking care of me, asking me to come to your games, doing things that make it seem like you actually give a fuck about me. Why do that?”

“We’re friends-”

“Get out.”

Clarke finds some comfort in how the demand makes Lexa flinch and her lip quiver slightly as green eyes look pleadingly back at her.

“I… Clarke,” Lexa lets out a defeated breath, “Can we just talk about it-”

“No.” Clarke shakes her head, “You lied to me. That’s it. I don’t want to be around you.”

“I didn’t lie-”

“You didn’t tell me the truth, either!” Clarke snaps, glaring at Lexa, “Do you seriously think I want to hear that friends bullshit right now? Just get out.” She demands again, hating how her voice wavers, “Like you said; we’re not dating. So we can skip the heart-to-heart and get straight to the part where you get the hell away from me.”

Clarke doesn’t dare break Lexa’s gaze, gripping painfully to her anger in hopes that the girl can’t see just how close she is to cracking under the familiar feeling of not being good enough. If anything, she refuses to let Lexa know that while she apparently means so little to the hockey player, Lexa has managed to imbed herself into Clarke’s heart.

“… Okay.” Lexa says, surprising Clarke and nodding weakly, “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave.”

“That’s what I want.” Clarke bites out.

Although, it’s not what she wants.

What she wants is for Lexa to tell her that she didn’t imagine everything. What she _wants_ is to not feel like an absolute moron for being so blind to the situation.

What she wants is the Lexa she thought she knew.

“I’m sorry.” Lexa says again, rising from the bed with a defeated posture, and Clarke almost lets herself believe that she means it, “I never meant to hurt you.”

Clarke doesn’t say anything as Lexa leaves, waiting until the door closes behind her to let the frustrated tears that sting her eyes begin to fall.

She should probably be relieved Lexa listened to her, she should probably be thankful that the girl didn’t attempt to deliver any more excuses for the situation she’s put them in.

But honestly? The fact that Lexa barely fought at all just makes it all worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is busy and I’ve had crazy writer’s block. But thank you so much for being patient! Well, those of you that have been patient lmao. To those of you who aren’t, please try to be less aggressive. I’m a real person with a real life and I don’t get paid to do this. Please don’t ruin a fun hobby for me like others have done in the past with other stories.
> 
> Anyway I struggled balancing the Bellamy/Raven stuff with the Clexa drama as well in this chap, so hopefully it wasn’t too bad! Next chapter will be taking on Lexa’s POV finally now that the Costia bomb is out there :) So you can see what the hell is going on in her mind. She’s very confused about what she wants and Clarke hit a bit of a sore spot during their talk, so that definitely didn’t go as she had planned. 
> 
> Thank you so so so much to everyone who left kudos/comments, especially to those that leave the more detailed ones! I really do love reading them and it’s nice to be able to go back to them when I’m struggling with my writing so I can get some confidence back. 
> 
> Anyway I’m very close to graduating university! Which will mean I’ll have so much more time to write. Let me know what you thought of this one and sorry for the angst :( See you next time!


	11. Chapter 11

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes in the shower and one stupid missed call is all it takes for Lexa’s past to come barreling in and ruin her present.

Figures, that the first time Costia contacts her in months is at the exact moment that Clarke is sitting right near Lexa’s phone to see it.

Lexa groans, head falling into her arms on her desk as her assignment continues to go ignored on her laptop screen.

She can’t think; hasn’t been able to think since Clarke ordered her out of her room three days ago.

Every time Lexa’s mind insists on replaying the ordeal all over again (which has been a lot), she gets even angrier with herself. If she’d just managed to keep her temper under control, maybe things would be different.

Lexa had _had_ a plan. She was _going_ to explain everything properly. But instead she let her temper get the better of her and now she can kiss any chance of having Clarke forgive her goodbye.

Lexa’s always been fairly good at objective thinking; she’s always been able to tell when she’s out of line. She’s _usually_ good at keeping her emotions in check and focusing on the end game. It’s why she made captain as opposed to her other teammates. But something about having Clarke call her a cheater had gotten to her, and before Lexa knew it she was in full jackass mode and defending her actions like they were even moderately defendable.

She’s tried to contact Clarke since their fallout, but the girl ignores every call and text, and when Lexa does manage the guts to go over to her apartment again, she is told by a closed-off Octavia that Clarke’s doesn’t want to see her.

She knows she’s in the wrong. Even if she and Clarke’s arrangement had started off as no strings attached, it had long passed the point where Lexa could claim it was still that. When Lexa had decided to sleep over the other night, she’d _known_ it meant something more. And she’d been okay with it. Hell, she’d been happy about it.

Which makes the fact that she denied it meant anything straight to Clarke’s face even more painful. Lexa wishes she knew _why_ she reacted so aggressively. But she’s learning that when it comes to Clarke, she does reacts first and thinks later.

It’s probably for the best, that Clarke won’t see her. Lexa’s not even sure what she’d say to her at this point. She’s yet to reach that moment of clarity where she actually knows what the fuck she wants to do with everything. She has feelings for Clarke. Lexa knows that, at least. But Costia’s always been the plan for her. And she’s not yet sure if that’s something she can let go.

“What’re you doing?”

Lexa doesn’t even bother looking up from her desk at Anya’s voice, shrugging as she hears the girl’s footsteps approach her desk.

She feels Anya kick at her chair.

“Lexa.”

“What do you want?”

“For you to get the fuck out of this room.”

Lexa scowls, sitting up in her chair to look at a visibly unimpressed Anya, “I have work to do.”

“You consider sulking work?” Anya rolls her eyes at Lexa’s glare, “Come on, we’re going to the fields with Lincoln.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to hit something. And it should probably be a ball instead of Bellamy Blake’s face.” Anya says, hands on her hips and regarding Lexa with an impatient expression, “Let’s go.”

Lexa would usually snap at Anya’s pressing nature, but the restlessness in her friend’s expression makes it obvious that she’s not here just to check up on her. Raven’s still ignoring her, and Lexa’s willing to bet that despite Anya’s best efforts to act otherwise, it’s getting to her.

“You okay?” Lexa asks hesitantly.

Anya’s arms are crossed in front of her defensively, the girl shrugging, “Fine.” She bites out, “You?”

Lexa sighs, closing her laptop and getting up from her desk, “Fine.”

One day they’ll work on their ability to communicate with one another. Today’s not that day.

* * *

After getting ready, Lexa heads to the hockey fields with Lincoln and Anya. Lincoln, naturally being good at any sport he tries, is tending the goal for the pair, visibly enjoying how both Anya and Lexa struggle to get the ball past him at any point.

Lexa’s off her game as it is, and after thirty-minutes out on the field all she wants to do is get back to her room and shut out the world again. Usually, hockey’s her outlet. No matter what, it’s the thing she can rely on to be solid and secure. But apparently she can’t even have _that_ anymore, and her general ability to use a hockey stick walked out of the door along with Clarke.

When she fails to successfully carry out an offensive drill with Anya yet again, Lexa gives up completely.

“Fucking shit.” Lexa hisses, dropping her hockey stick and falling onto the ground. She squints as she looks up at the sky, brow furrowed and wondering if it’s too late in the semester to organize a transfer to some remote school where she never has to talk to anyone ever again.

She’s only there for a few moments before she hears Anya and Lincoln moving to sit down near her. Lexa doesn’t bother looking over, knowing their concerned expressions will just make her want to grab her stick and wipe the looks off their faces.

“So,” Lincolns starts eventually, and Lexa feels the ball hit her side lightly, “You finally gonna tell us what happened with Clarke?”

Lexa groans, resting her arms over her eyes, “I blew it.” She mumbles out, “Now she hates me.”

“What’d you _do_?” Anya frowns, “I thought you were going to explain things to her.”

“That was the plan. But then she called me a cheater and I just…” she huffs, hands forming fists, “I got defensive.”

“She called _you_ a cheater?” Anya scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief, “No wonder you lost it.”

Lexa moves to sit up, eyes only glancing to Lincoln and Anya briefly and pulling her hockey stick into her lap. She picks at the weathered tape on the handle, shrugging, “It’s not her fault.” She mumbles, “She doesn’t know what happened with Costia.”

“ _What_?”

Lexa scowls at Anya, “Why would I tell her?” she bites out, “It’s not an excuse.”

“Well, it kind of explains the damn situation.” Anya drawls, “What did you even tell Clarke, then?”

“That Costia and I are on a break.”

Lincoln’s calm presence cracks then, and his eyes dart to Lexa, wearing a firm frown, “You told her you guys are on a _break?”_ he gapes, “What the hell, Lexa?”

“What? It’s true.”

“You haven’t spoken to Costia since last summer!”

“And the bitch cheated on you.” Anya adds, “Let’s not forget that tiny detail.”

“She’s not a bitch.” Lexa spits, “You don’t get the situation.”

“Then please enlighten me, _Lexa_.” Anya rolls her eyes, “Because after all the nights I dealt with you fucking crying over the girl, I’d think I’d have a pretty good understanding of the situation. You’re the one with the rose-tinted glasses.”

“Anya, don’t.” Lincoln orders softly.

Anya looks ready to lunge at Lexa, and Lexa’s hands are gripping her hockey stick tight as she refrains from snapping at her right back.

This isn’t unfamiliar ground between them; Lexa can’t even count the amount of times she and Anya have been at each other’s throats. It’s probably one of the reasons they usually avoid deeper conversation; the pair are so hardheaded it’s likely to end in a fight. Thankfully, Lincoln plays the much-needed mediator between them.

Lincoln looks to Lexa, “We just care about you, Lex. Anya’s not wrong; we saw how much Costia hurt you.” He says, “We just don’t get why you’d let things with her mess up what you have going with Clarke.”

“I told Clarke the truth.” Lexa mumbles, “We _are_ on a break.”

“Do you seriously still believe that?” Lincoln counters, “Things have been dead between you and Costia all year. I thought you were moving on.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it is, actually.” Anya chimes in, “This ‘break’ thing is bullshit and you know it. You guys are over. Besides, would you even _want_ to be with Costia after everything?”

“She’s my first love.”

Anya scoffs, “Like that means anything after what happened with you two.”

Lincoln sends Anya a look of warning, “What Anya’s _trying_ to say,” he starts, “Is that people change. You and Costia aren’t the same people you were when you were together. Some things belong in the past.”

“So what? I should just throw it all away?”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Anya shakes her head in disbelief, “Quit being a moron. _She_ threw it away, _she_ went and used some bullshit ‘break’ as a scapegoat to keep you hanging on the line incase she changed her mind. Why are you so hell-bent on waiting for her?”

“Because that’s the plan.” Lexa bites out, struggling to contain her anger now, “That’s always been the plan.”

“ _Fuck_ the plan, Lexa! It wasn’t in the ‘plan’ for Costia to go and fuck someone else! Are you seriously going to wait around until she decides to walk all over you again? Quit being so weak-”

Lexa’s up from the ground and launching herself at Anya before she’s even made the conscious decision to move, only seeing red.

Knowing Lexa all too well, Anya has already predicted the outburst, and jumps up in time to avoid Lexa, stumbling back and out of the way of the shorter girl quickly.

“ _There_ she is!” Anya laughs dryly, shaking her head in disbelief, “You know, where was _this_ Lexa when Costia was parading herself around flirting with anything that fucking moved? You knew she was playing you and you just let it happen.” She steels herself as Lexa steps forward threateningly, matching her friend’s glare with her own, “People like Niylah flirting with her weren’t the problem; your bitch of a girlfriend was.”

“Shut _up!_ ” Lexa shoves Anya back, about to throw a punch just as Lincoln forces his way between them, one arm holding Lexa back while the other pushes Anya away.

“Can you guys quit it already?” He hisses, looking between them with an impatient expression.

Lincoln’s efforts go barely acknowledged, Lexa and Anya continuing to stare one another down.

“You know what, Lexa?” Anya starts again, pushing Lincoln’s hand off of her shoulder, “I have Raven ignoring me for _no_ reason.” She grits, “I couldn’t fix things if I wanted to; and you’re here feeling sorry for yourself because _you_ fucked things up with Clarke. _You_ let Costia walk all over you and guess what? You’re letting her do it again!”

“ _Anya_ , stop.” Lincoln bites out, his grip on Lexa’s shoulder tightening as the girl attempts to move forward again.

Anya looks to Lincoln, “What? Aren’t you over it, too? Octavia’s ignoring you because of her!” she says, looking back to Lexa, “You like Clarke. You _know_ that Lexa, so why the fuck are you still obsessing over some bullshit future with Costia when you could be with someone who actually gives a shit about you? Quit being a coward and start moving on.”

Lexa makes another attempt to reach for Anya, Lincoln simply pushing her back again. Green eyes move to him, narrowing, “Let go of me.” She bites out.

“Oh yeah, and then what? What’re you gonna do, Lex?” Lincoln counters, his expression stern, “You’re gonna go and punch your best friend? Risk losing your scholarship in the process? Quit being an idiot.”

Anya lets out a bitter laugh, throwing her arms up in defeat, “I give up.” She declares, pushing past Lincoln and Lexa and going to retrieve her things.

Lexa turns and watches in fuming silence as Anya shoulders her bag and swipes up her hockey stick before turning back to Lexa again, jaw tight.

“It’s not me you’re angry with, Lexa.” She spits, “Costia’s the one that fucked you over, I’m just one of the few people who actually cares enough to try stop you from letting her do it again.”

Lexa doesn’t respond, glaring at Anya as her friend walks away from them. Once he’s apparently decided it’s safe to do so, Lincoln releases his hold on Lexa, dropping his hand from her shoulder and taking a step back.

Lexa shifts under his gaze, hating the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of disappointment and sympathy, and Lexa’s not sure which annoys her the most.

“Let’s just go.” She grumbles out, not waiting for Lincoln before retrieving her things and heading off the pitch.

Lincoln allows Lexa the silence she wants on the walk back to their apartment, and Lexa’s thinking she’s going to get away with avoiding conversation for the rest of the day before she’s almost made it to her room and Lincoln calls her back.

She pauses at her name, considering for a second just ignoring it and slamming her door behind her.

But it’s Lincoln, and with the state of her life right now Lexa’s not sure she wants to add him to the growing list of people she’s alienated herself from. So, she turns on her heel and moves back into the living space, falling down at their small dining table while Lincoln retrieves two bottles of water before joining her.

He slides a bottle over to her, and Lexa’s beginning to feel like the screw-up daughter as Lincoln attempts to determine how to approach her now.

“Anya’s just trying to give you some tough love.” he says after a moment, “Don’t be mad at her.”

Lexa scoffs, “ _Seriously_?”

Lincoln shrugs, “You can’t tell me she doesn’t have a point.” He reasons, “We’re your friends, Lex. We just don’t want to see you crash and burn again.”

Lexa’s attention turns to her bottle of water, picking at the label, “I’m fine.”

“You were just about to attack Anya; you’re not fine.” Lincoln drawls, “So are you going to actually talk about what’s going on in that head of yours or do you wanna just keep trying to fight your friends?”

Lexa doesn’t answer, and Lincoln lets out a sigh, “So what did Costia want?”

“… I don’t know.” Lexa murmurs, “I’ve been screening her calls.”

“Wait- really?”

Lexa only shrugs in response, not really having any more to say about it.

Honestly, at the beginning of the semester Lexa would have been scrambling to answer a call from Costia. Hell, just receiving a text would have made her day and fed the nagging need for some reassurance that the girl would make her way back to her one day.

Now she’s not even sure what she’d say to her; if she has anything to say at all.

“Lexa… don’t you think _that_ means something?”

Lexa shrugs again, and it’s clear Lincoln is growing frustrated.

“Just- think about what’s going on.” Lincoln pushes, “Would you even _want_ to be with Costia if she wanted to get back together?”

“She’s all I know, Lincoln.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re more than your relationship with Costia.” Lincoln says, “Look, I _know_ she meant a lot to you and she’s your first love and all that but- it doesn’t mean she has to be your last. You might have had a plan of being with Costia but… maybe that’s not the right thing for you anymore. It’s okay for things to change.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Isn’t it?” Lincoln says, “Do you have feelings for Clarke?”

Lexa lets out a tired breath, resting her head in her hands, “Yes.” She admits, “But Costia-”

“You don’t owe Costia anything.” Lincoln pushes, “Look, I was there when everything happened with Costia. You were a wreck, Lexa. Do you seriously think you could ever be with her again after what happened? Are you really happy just waiting around for if she decides she doesn’t like the single life anymore? That’s not who you are, Lex. Come on.”

“I’ve known her since I was sixteen; she’s been there for me through everything. That’s not something you can just throw away.”

“You don’t _have_ to throw it away. But just… think about what you actually want. You keep talking about your history together and the plans you made but not about any actual _feelings_ you have for her.” Lincoln says, “That’s stuff’s all great in the long-run but if you don’t actually love the person or want to be with them, it’s not worth anything. Do you still love Costia?”

Lexa swallows hard, her grip on her water bottle tightening, “I…” she huffs, shaking her head in exasperation, “I don’t _know_ what I feel, Lincoln.” She bites out, “I haven’t even let myself think about Costia for months.”

“You know how you feel about Clarke.”

He’s right. Out of everything, the one thing Lexa _does_ know is that she’s falling for Clarke. But she’s not yet sure if that knowledge is enough of a reason to let everything with Costia go.

That’s assuming she even has a chance with Clarke after all this; Lexa’s not even sure _herself_ that she deserves one.

“I’ve blown that anyway.” Lexa murmurs, “She won’t even see me.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” Lincoln says, “Maybe you need to take some time for yourself. Figure out what you want and give Clarke some space. You’ll just confuse her more if you talk to her while you still don’t know what you want.”

Lincoln reaches out, her hand resting over Lexa’s wrist and squeezing lightly, “I can give you all the advice in the world, Lex, but all that actually matters is what you want for yourself.” He says, “So figure that part out first. And then you can start from there.”

* * *

“Mom, I’m sorry but-”

_“Clarke Taylor Griffin I haven’t funded you through college just to have you avoid coming home at every opportunity. It’s Thanksgiving, you need to be with family.”_

Clarke lets out an exhausted sigh, leaning back in her chair and glaring up at the ceiling. A glance at her dad’s old watch sitting on her desk tells her that she’s almost spent an hour on this call, attempting to get on her mom’s good-side and convince her that missing Thanksgiving _isn’t_ the end of the world.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to come home. Well… it _is_ that she doesn’t want to come home. But not because of her mother or how fucking cold it is back in Boston right now (but that’s definitely a factor to consider – Clarke’s long acclimatized to California weather), it’s because going home means excruciating amounts of alone-time that- with all the Lexa drama lately- Clarke does _not_ want to deal with. The only way she’s managed to stay sane this long has been because she’s had Raven and Octavia to keep her busy with her own troubles.

The moment Clarke walks into her home and lays her eyes on her mother, she knows she’ll break. And Clarke would prefer to hold off on the emotional breakdown until _after_ she’s gotten through finals and her art showcase.

“I’m not avoiding coming home I just- finals are coming up and then there’s the Winter showcase. I need to use the week to get things done.”

That’s not a lie. Clarke hasn’t cracked a textbook open since everything with Lexa occurred. Her brain’s been so fucking scattered and her grades are likely to suffer if she doesn’t find a way to focus soon. Not to mention, every time she tries to draw something it ends up looking like some shitty attempt at a Tim Burton piece. Even her professor has been side-eyeing Clarke every time the man walks into the studio to check in on everyone’s pieces. Sure, she can study at home, but it’s not like she can bring her art back with her.

_“I’ve seen your bank account. You need to come home and eat something that isn’t pizza or burritos.”_

“I’ll be back like two weeks after it anyway.” Clarke groans, running an exhausted hand down her face “Please, Mom. It’s a waste of money to fly there for just a week anyway. Boston’s not exactly around the corner. You can’t exactly promise you won’t be called into work all of Thanksgiving anyway.”

Her mom is silent for a moment, her guilt over her work hours evidently coming into play. Clarke usually wouldn’t pull such a cheap shot, but she _really_ doesn’t want to go home yet.

_“I knew letting you move across the country for school was a bad idea.”_ The woman grumbles, letting out a sigh, _“… is anyone else staying on campus?”_

Clarke sits up in her chair hopefully at the question, “Heaps of people.” She blurts, “Monty and Raven will be here.”

_“And what will you do about Thanksgiving? You can’t just eat take out.”_

“We’ll go to the Blakes!” Clarke insists, “They’re only two hours away, O’s mom said it’d be fine.”

She hears her mother let out another heavy sigh, the woman clearly anything _but_ enthusiastic about the idea.

_“… fine.”_ She gives in, _“If you’re still behind on your work next week, you can stay on campus.”_

“Thank you so much-”

_“ **But** , you are coming to my work Christmas party with me.”_

Clarke pauses, rolling her eyes. Of course that’d be the condition. Clarke’s been avoiding her mom’s work ever since she decided to pursue her art instead of medicine. While her mom’s accepted the decision, her coworkers are a lot less learnt in the talent of hiding their judgment when Clarke reveals she’s chosen a life of art and struggling to make ends meet instead of a career she can’t stand and financial security.

But, if it means she’ll be able to avoid Thanksgiving, she’ll put herself through the Christmas party. At least Boston’s finest doctors means decent food and copious amounts of free booze. She’s sure her mom will allow her to drag her friend Wells along anyway.

“Deal.” Clarke nods despite the fact that her mom can’t see her, “Thank you so much, Mom.”

There’s another sigh on the other end of the phone, and Clarke fights off the guilt.

_“That’s okay, honey.”_ She responds _, “Just take care of yourself and stay on top of your work.”_

When Clarke eventually hangs up the phone, she’s left to the painful silence of her bedroom once more, and blue eyes glance around the space as she ponders what to do with herself next.

After being unable to keep Lexa off her mind for the past week, and in turn being unable to focus long enough to actually study, Clarke’s taken to keeping herself busy at all moments. Unfortunately today, Raven’s working late and Octavia’s off making-up with Lincoln after finally deciding he’s suffered long enough for withholding Lexa-related information from her.

Clarke spins her phone between her thumb and her index finger, already feeling the sense of loneliness creeping up on her. Her sketchbook sits ignored on the edge of her desk, like it has been since she kicked Lexa out of her room, and Clarke doesn’t even bother attempting to open it and draw something, knowing seeing the numerous sketches of green-eyes and intrinsic tattoos that litter the book will only launch her back into the pit of depression she’s only just managed to get out of by focusing on her anger at the girl.  

Octavia suggested a burning ritual the other day, to ‘get rid of the bad juju Lexa’s left behind’, but despite all the anger that runs through Clarke’s veins, some annoying fucking part of her still refuses to let go. Lexa finally stopped trying to reach her last week, and Clarke had hoped that not receiving any more calls or texts from the girl would help her begin to erase Lexa’s very existence from her mind.

Turns out, Clarke’s had no such luck. And the more silence she receives from Lexa, the more obsessive she gets over the whole thing.

Clarke’s never had this much trouble shaking someone off, and that just makes her angrier with herself for thinking she was ever okay with just being ‘casual’ with Lexa to begin with.

She just needs a break. Something to remind her fucking heart that Lexa’s not the only person out there, and that she’s really just dodged a bullet here all together. Hell, she should be _celebrating_ the fact that she caught Lexa out before she got any deeper into whatever it was that had been happening between them.

Yeah. Clarke just needs a distraction. She needs some fun. She needs to forget about the tattooed hockey-player who must not be named.

* * *

Clarke decides said distraction will be booze and the company of Bellamy, Monty and Jasper, who are thankfully ignorant to the Lexa drama of the past couple of weeks and the most likely to actually get her mind off of things. She bursts into Bellamy’s frat-house demanding a night out of fun and the boy barely takes a second to slam his textbooks shut and grab his jacket, more than happy to be provided with an alternative to study. Monty takes a bit more convincing in order to get him away from the study cards he’s plastered on his and Jasper’s dorm-room wall, but thankfully Clarke picked up the muscle before arriving there, and Bellamy jostles the boy out of his room while Jasper skips along behind him like an excited puppy.

(If Clarke thought Monty were _actually_ at risk of being behind on study, she’d leave him alone. But this is Monty Green; the kid can take an exam completely baked and still come out of it with the highest grade in his class – pun not intended)

They find themselves at a bar near campus that’s known to be lax when it comes to ID’s, and Clarke switches off her phone for the night, determined to have a good time. She doesn’t extend an invitation to Octavia and Raven, knowing the pair would spend the night questioning her every move. Usually Raven is the one to encourage drunken nights when one of them is dealing with unwanted emotions, but even she has been hovering over Clarke like an annoying helicopter mom all week. Bellamy’s still not speaking to Raven anyway, so Clarke figures it’s for the best that she doesn’t let the girls know where she is.

“So, you gonna tell me what’s gotten _you_ all pissy?” Bellamy asks as they sit in one of the bar booths, beer in hand and watching while Monty and Jasper play a game of darts on the other side of the room.

“I’m not pissy.”

Bellamy scoffs, “You’ve been in a shit mood for the last two weeks.” He drawls, “Even Jasper’s noticed.”

“I’m fine.” Clarke rolls her eyes, “Thanks for the concern, though.”

The boy watches Clarke with that annoyingly insightful look that makes her squirm uncomfortably, “You know, you wouldn’t let _me_ sulk when all this shit with Raven went down.” He comments, “I haven’t seen you with Lexa lately.”

“Well she’s not my girlfriend. I don’t have to spend every second with her.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from doing exactly that, though.” Bellamy chuckles, “You’ve been attached at the hip for months.”

Clarke’s jaw tightens, “Yeah, well…” she lets out a heavy sigh, shrugging, “We all make mistakes.”

Swiping up her beer, Clarke takes a long drink, pleading for the alcohol to start kicking in so at least if she starts crying at some point, she has something to blame it on.

“So Lexa’s a mistake now?”

Clarke glares around at the bar, not answering the boy, “You know, Raven hasn’t spoken to Anya since everything happened.”

It’s cheap, using Bellamy’s own issues to veer the conversation away from Lexa. But hey, her tactic works, and Bellamy’s expression immediately darkens, Lexa long forgotten.

“And?” he scoffs, swigging back a mouthful of beer, “Raven and Anya’s relationship isn’t my problem.”

“It’d mean a lot to her if you guys could be friends again.”

“Yeah… not there yet.” Bellamy grumbles, “I know what you’re doing, by the way. I’m not an idiot.”

That makes Clarke laugh, and she shrugs, “Got you talking about something else, didn’t I?”

“I seem to recall a blonde that looks a lot like you telling me alcohol doesn’t solve problems.” Bellamy arches an eyebrow, “Where’s that girl tonight?”

“I’m not drinking to drown my sorrows.” Clarke says, “I’m just here to let my hair down.”

“Are those two things mutually exclusive?”

“Whatever, _dad_.” Clarke drawls, “I just wanna have fun.”

Bellamy grins, “And what do you suggest, Princess?”

Clarke’s eyes snap to the other side of the bar at the sound of loud laughter, and a smile traces her lips when she finds Lexa’s teammate, Niylah, amongst a group of people, “Dunno.” She hums, “I’m sure something will come to mind soon.”

* * *

Clarke doesn’t know whether it was the fifth tequila shot or the cigarette she bummed off of some overly touchy guy out in the smokers area, but it’s nearing midnight and her head is _spinning_ and everything is _great_.

Well, kinda. The music’s great and the people here are fun, and Clarke’s barely had to pay for a drink thanks to the copious amounts of horny ass dudes in this place.

But Lexa still fucking sucks. And her stupid, perfectly sculpted face keeps popping up into Clarke’s mind every damn time she takes a breather from the dancing and the drinking.

Monty’s worried, Clarke can tell. Every time she orders another drink, he sends her this questionable look as though he has no idea what’s going on with her.

Which is true. The guy _doesn’t_ have any idea. But Clarke’s not about to go and tell him the whole fucking sob story. Honestly, who even wants to hear that? It’s her own fault for being stupid enough to fall for Lexa in the first place. Clarke’s happy to move on and never mention Lexa ever again.

(Now if only her brain could get the fucking memo and quit relaying the girl through her mind every damn second)

She knows Bellamy’s concerned as well, but thankfully he’s decided letting Clarke get this out of her system is the appropriate approach, and he hasn’t attempted to drag her home just yet.

In her freshman year, after Clarke’s first experience with a cheating partner (Finn), Bellamy had done just that. Despite Octavia and Raven’s attempts to stop her, Clarke had decided an impromptu strip number was in store, and it was Bellamy that thankfully threw her over his shoulder and carried her out of the bar just before she could manage to get her shirt off.

Clarke actually laughs to herself at that. Her _first_ experience with a cheater. Honestly, what the fuck is it about her that attracts these situations? Is there something about her appearance that screams ‘hey, make a fucking idiot out of me’? Clarke has never considered herself a gullible person, or someone that trusts too easily, but maybe she doesn’t have quite a handle on herself as she likes to think. How else does she keep on falling for these plays?

Clarke is sitting at the bar, having decided that the booth her friends are sitting at is much too far away and she’s downing drinks too quickly to bother leaving her place here anyway. She’s just about to order another beer when Monty sidles up next to her, offering her a hesitant smile.

“You doing okay?” he asks unsurely, eyes scanning over Clarke’s features as though he’ll find his answer there.

A practiced smile traces Clarke’s lips, “Yeah! I’m fine.” She chirps, looking back to where the bartender is heading over to them, “Want a drink?”

“I’m fine.” Monty murmurs, “I- uh… are you sure you should keep drinking? I was thinking I could call you a ride home.”

Clarke laughs, “I’m _fine._ I know my limit _._ ” She responds, her words seeming to roll into one another thanks to the booze already in her system.

Clarke lets out a sigh when the bartender finally takes her order, turning her attention back to Monty. The boy is texting someone, and Clarke leans over in a failed attempt to catch a glance at the screen.

“Who’re you texting?”

“Nate.” Monty answers sheepishly, making a genuine grin spread across Clarke’s face.

“That’s the guy from the hockey party, right?”

“Yeah.”

Clarke hums, happy for her friend. At least _something_ good came out of Lexa walking into her life.

“Clarke…” Monty starts again, and Clarke is already rolling her eyes.

“Don’t ask.” Clarke huffs, getting up from the bar and taking her beer with her, setting her sights on where Niylah is speaking with her friends, “I love you, Mont, but I’ve got some poor decisions make right now.”

“Clarke-”

“Catch ya later!” she sings, making a beeline for the blonde across the bar.

As she approaches, Niylah spots her, the girl wearing a curious smile and arching an eyebrow when Clarke boldly pushes her way through Niylah’s friends to come to a stop in front of her.

“You know, I’m offended.” Clarke starts, wearing a sly smile, “You stare at me all night and you don’t even come say hi?”

Clarke’s thankful for the amount of alcohol in her system right now, because it distracts her from how jarring it feels to be flirting with someone who isn’t Lexa.

She’s not sure when it happened. But apparently at some point during her time with Lexa, Clarke had convinced herself she wouldn’t be doing this with anybody else for a long time. The thought makes her want to bash her head against a wall. _Jesus_ she didn’t even get to date the fucking girl and she’s this hung-up. This isn’t fair at all.

Niylah grins, “Well you looked like you were having so much fun, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You can interrupt me anytime.” Clarke quips, leaning on the bar and shamelessly letting her eyes wander over Niylah’s body. When she meets Niylah’s eyes, the taller girl already looks like she’ll do whatever Clarke wants. It’s a game Clarke’s played and won too many times.

Unfortunately, it’s just not as thrilling as it was before Lexa came along.

“Are you gonna ask me to dance?” she purrs, tilting her head slightly as she peers up at Niylah.

“I feel like Lexa might not be so happy about that.” Niylah laughs, and Clarke frowns at where the girl’s eyes are trained on someone behind her.

When she turns around, the exact person she _doesn’t_ want to see is standing near Bellamy, Monty and Jasper’s booth, and Clarke’s mood immediately darkens.

“Be right back.” she growls out, not bothering to wait for a response before walking away from Niylah.

Lexa walks towards her as Clarke approaches, looking hesitant as ever.

“Clarke-”

“What are you doing here?” Clarke spits, Lexa visibly flinching at the anger directed towards her.

“Monty called me to come get you.” Lexa answers calmly.

“He-” Clarke turns around to where Monty is notably sinking in his seat in the booth, the weight of her betrayed glare making his face go bright red. She’s assuming he’s only just figuring out calling Lexa was a bad idea.

“He’s just worried-”

“This is none of your business.” Clarke seethes, turning back to Lexa, “ _I’m_ none of your business.”

Lexa nods weakly, but she persists, “Just let me take you home-”

“Do you seriously think I’m going anywhere with you?” Clarke exclaims, “Go away, Lexa.”

“Clarke, please.” Lexa sighs, “I just-”

“No. I’m not leaving and I’m _not_ talking to you. I’m having fun. So you can just wait around for all I care.”

“Fine.”

Clarke freezes, “What?”

“Fine.” Lexa repeats, “I’ll wait.”

Clarke almost stomps her foot like a petulant child in response, “There’s no point in you being here, _Lexa_.” She bites out, “You’re wasting your time.”

“Maybe.” Lexa says, shrugging weakly.

Clarke’s jaw tightens, and she lets out an indignant huff before turning on her heel and storming off.

She should’ve known she wouldn’t catch a break anytime soon.

* * *

Clarke spends the next thirty-minutes desperately attempting to ignore Lexa, and trying to focus on Niylah instead of the way Lexa’s mere proximity has her feeling like she’s going to suffocate any second.

_Why_ her?

Why’d Monty have to call _her_?

And why the fuck did she have to actually _come_? Does she just have a thing for sending Clarke mixed signals?

Lexa’s not allowed to care about her.

She’s not allowed to just show up here trying to be some white knight when she’s the whole reason Clarke feels so fucking broken in the first place.

“So, why’re you spending all this time with me?” Niylah asks eventually, watching Clarke like she’s about the pounce any moment.

Her full attention is on Clarke, her friends long having been ignored in favor of flirting with her.

Clarke feels guilty for the fact that her intentions here have very little to do with Niylah and very much to do with the green-eyed girl that sits at the other side of the bar.

“What do you mean?” Clarke frowns.

Niylah grins, her eyes falling to Clarke’s lips briefly, “Well… I thought you were with Lexa.”

Clarke scowls at the name and her stomach turns, but she manages to force that smile back onto her features, “I guess you thought wrong.”

“Did I?” Niylah hums, and Clarke notices her eyes glance over to where Lexa sits with Monty, Bellamy and Jasper, “Because the way she’s watching us right now says something else.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, fighting the urge to glance back at the booth, “Who cares?”

( _Clarke_ cares. She definitely cares.)

She grins, stepping closer to Niylah, “Are you scared the big bad captain’s gonna kick you off the team for flirting with me?”

A soft laugh falls from Niylah’s lips, “I’m just playing it safe.” She says, “I’ve been in Lexa’s bad book before. It’s not fun.”

The statement piques Clarke’s interest, but she’s fairly certain prodding further information from Niylah is only going to make her second-guess what she’s doing talking to the girl. And honestly, Clarke didn’t come here tonight to feel guilty over _Lexa_.

So, Clarke leaves it alone, simply shrugging.

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about.” She says, offering Niylah a sly smile, “I’m as single as they come.”

Niylah grins, watching Clarke for a moment, “Well in that case, how about that dance?”

“That’s the spirit.” Clarke winks, grabbing Niylah’s hand and allowing the taller girl to lead her towards the dance floor.

The music is some overplayed radio-tune that Clarke finds easy to move to, and she forces herself to focus on the beat instead of the green-eyed girl she can feel watching her.

Niylah’s hands are on Clarke’s hips, coaxing her closer until Clarke turns around, feeling hot breath against her neck as she allows Niylah to press up against her back and their bodies fall in sync.

Niylah’s hold is firmer than Lexa’s, and when Clarke feels lips brush her neck all it reminds her of is the hickey’s Lexa used to leave there. Part of Clarke wants to pull away from Niylah’s touch, in some stupid attempt to preserve the memory of how Lexa feels. She doesn’t, though. And she reaches back to rest her hand around the back of Niylah’s neck and encourage her further. Because she’s supposed to _want_ to forget about Lexa.

When she opens her eyes, she immediately finds Lexa’s gaze from the booth, and Clarke curses herself for feeling even an ounce of guilt for what she’s doing.

She’s not Lexa’s. There’s nothing between them past some meaningless hook-ups; she’s not doing anything wrong.

Too bad her heart didn’t get the memo.

Niylah is murmuring something in her ear and Clarke hopes she’s just singing along to the song because all she’s paying attention to right now is the green eyes staring back at her.

As much as Clarke wants to hurt Lexa, wants to make her feel even an ounce of the pain she’s been feeling, Clarke doesn’t have it in her to watch Lexa’s broken expression, and she turns in Niylah’s arms to face the taller girl.

Niylah doesn’t seem to have even noticed Clarke’s complete lack of attention, her face flushed and wearing a wide smile as she looks down at her. She says something that blurs to the background and Clarke doesn’t register it, too caught up in the sick feeling in her stomach and how her heart is currently hammering in her chest painfully.

She says something again, and Clarke manages to respond this time, tuning back in.

“Sorry?” she calls over the music, Niylah laughing and leaning in closer.

“I said,” Niylah starts, her hands squeezing Clarke’s waist, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

And then Niylah’s leaning in closer, one hand resting beneath Clarke’s chin and tilting her head up until their lips meet.

Clarke freezes at first, and then follows Niylah’s lead, despite how close she is to jerking away. With everything in her, she _wishes_ this was something she wanted. She _wishes_ she wanted to accept the offer and she wishes she could just go back with Niylah and fuck away every thought of Lexa.

But she can’t. The air around her is too hot and Lexa’s gaze is too heavy and Niylah’s touch just _isn’t_ right and Clarke just needs to get the fuck out of here before she breaks.

She pushes Niylah away from her, taking the taller girl by surprise, “I- um- I’m sorry.” She stammers, “I should…”

Clarke doesn’t finish her sentence, turning on her heel and bolting for the exit.

She bursts out of the door and her lungs are finally able to function as she’s hit with the cold night air.

There’s a small group outside smoking and while they probably couldn’t give a shit, Clarke feels like she’s facing a jury under their glances. Arms wrapping around herself in an attempt to fight off the cold, she manages to make it around to the corner of the bar, finally achieving some seclusion.

She leans back against the rough brick wall, attempting to focus on pacing her breaths and stopping the tears that sting her eyes from falling.

She’s not given much time before she hears footsteps approaching. Clarke doesn’t have to look up to know who it is; she could sense Lexa’s presence in a fucking crowded stadium. A lump has formed in her throat, and Clarke refuses to look over at Lexa and give the girl the satisfaction of seeing just how much she’s managed to get to her.

Lexa doesn’t say anything, and eventually her silence forces Clarke to look at her.

When she meets her gaze, the expression on her face tells Clarke that Lexa isn’t even sure why she’s followed her out here at all. She looks lost, and Clarke recognizes the look as the same one she’s been seeing in the mirror lately, which makes Clarke’s stomach twist with a guilt she _shouldn’t_ feel and an urge to bolt back to campus from here.

She’s not sure why she even decided to provoke Lexa. Surely just keeping distance would be the better option if she really wants nothing to do with her. But for some reason everything in Clarke is just _tearing_ at her insides for some sign that she has even a tiny amount of a hold over the girl as Lexa does her.

“You’re cold.”

Clarke almost laughs at that. Because _really_? _That’s_ the first thing Lexa has to say to her now that she finally has her alone?

“How observant of you.” Clarke bites out.

Lexa shrugs off her jacket, leaving her in her button up and holding the garment out to Clarke.

Clarke doesn’t take it, glaring at Lexa stubbornly, “Keep it.”

Unfortunately it’s then that a breeze just has to make its way down the alley and Clarke is unable to fight off the shiver that racks her body.

“It’s just a jacket, Clarke.” Lexa coaxes again.

“Fine.” Clarke grumbles, taking the jacket from Lexa begrudgingly. Because it really was a shit night to wear a dress and she figures Lexa at least owes her this.

Lexa watches as Clarke pulls the jacket on and they’re back to silence as Clarke crosses her arms in front of her chest and focuses on warming up.

“So is this you punishing me?” Lexa asks eventually.

Clarke pushes off the wall to straighten up, feeling half her size under the weight of the Lexa’s gaze. God, she hates it. That same heavy expression is what had Clarke thinking she meant something to Lexa to begin with.

“Maybe it isn’t about you.” She responds weakly.

Lexa nods, and Clarke notices how her jaw tightens as she remains firmly in place, her hurt expression showing under the dim light of the alley, “Did it make you feel better?”

A bitter laugh pushes its way from Clarke’s throat, her eyes stinging with frustrated tears. Of course it didn’t make her feel better. But she bites back the reality, hating how her lip quivers when she trains her gaze back on the other girl, “Fuck you, Lexa.” She croaks out, running a hand through her hair, “You _don’t_ get to be mad at me.”

“You’re right.” Lexa says, “I don’t.”

Clarke hates how calm Lexa is. Absolutely despises the way the girl opposite her can be standing here, looking so collected while Clarke’s felt seconds away from breaking for the past two weeks.

Because _god_ , why can’t Lexa at least be mad? At least it shows she _cares_ if she’s mad.

“Like you said, we’re not-” Clarke pauses, “We _weren’t_ exclusive.” She doesn’t know why she’s even justifying herself, but for some reason she can’t stop the excuses from rolling off her tongue, “I can do whatever I want with Niylah.”

Niylah’s name at least gets a scowl from Lexa, and the girl visibly struggles to maintain her composure.

But she manages it, nodding again, “… you’re right.” She murmurs.

“So what? Did you just come out here to give me your jacket then?” Clarke spits, “Why are you out here, Lexa? Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Clarke shakes her head in disbelief, “Of course you don’t. Because that’d be asking too much.”

“What do you want me to say, Clarke?” Lexa snaps, “Do you _want_ me to be mad at you?”

“I _want_ you to act like you at least give a fuck about me!”

Clarke’s voice carries down the alley and her face feels hot, her hands gripping the jacket around her tighter.

Lexa is watching her, regret and guilt written on her features, “You really think I don’t care about you?”

Clarke laughs, “I don’t know, Lexa.” She murmurs out bitterly, “From where I’m standing, it looks like I’m just something to pass your time while you wait for the girl you actually want to be with.”

“It was never like that.”

Lexa’s response sounds so firm, Clarke almost believes it. She _wants_ to believe it, with everything in her. But what reason does she have to?

“I’m sorry for coming.” Lexa says when Clarke doesn’t respond, “I should’ve sent someone else instead.”

“Yeah. You should have.”

Lexa takes it, nodding weakly and eyes cast to the ground.

“Just take me home, Lexa.” Clarke mumbles out in defeat, too tired to fight the girl anymore.

Lexa looks like she wants to say more, but Clarke’s face must give away just how close she is to losing it, and the girl seems to think better of it.

Clarke follows her to her car and sends off a text to Bellamy to let him know she’s heading home, and the car ride is awkward to say the least.

Lexa keeps glancing over at Clarke and Clarke just stares out of the window.

She’s not sure how she feels right now. Numb, might be the best word for it.

She’s been gripping to her anger so tight and now with Lexa here, everything feels just ready to blow. It’s like she’s standing at the edge of a cliff, moments from giving herself over to the fall. And everything is just… still.

This is the part that Clarke’s scared of most. Because the moment she stops being angry, she’s just left with the hurt. Seeing Lexa here, looking guilty and like she wants to be the one to fix everything for her… it makes it a lot harder to hang onto the demonized version of the girl that Clarke’s had in her head for the last two weeks.

Lexa doesn’t ask to escort Clarke into her apartment complex; she just does it out of habit.

Clarke doesn’t fight it.

When they reach her apartment, Clarke fumbles with the keys for a moment before she eventually opens the door and walks inside. She doesn’t know why she hasn’t said goodbye and shut the door in Lexa’s face. Maybe a part of her is hoping Lexa will say something that will make this all okay.

Lexa lingers at the door, no doubt aware that Clarke’s giving her this much slack because she’s basically just a walking vision of exhaustion and over-indulgence of alcohol right now.

“I know now’s not the right time,” Lexa starts, making Clarke turn around and listen, “But if you’d let me at some point, I’d like to explain everything to you.”

“What’s there to explain?” Clarke says, desperately attempting to find any remainder of the anger in her, “You hurt me, Lexa. You let me fall for you and then you fucked me over. That’s it.”

“It wasn’t casual for me either, Clarke.”

The admission takes Clarke by surprise, seeing as the last time she saw Lexa, the girl was attempting to stick to her bullshit claims that they were never anything more than friends who fucked on the regular.

“You sure about that? Because you seemed pretty certain that you only saw me as a friend.”

“I was lying.” Lexa sighs, “Clarke if it was all casual do you seriously think I would have acted the way I did?”

“I don’t _know_ , Lexa.” Clarke bites out, “I don’t _know_ how you would act because _clearly_ you’re not the person I thought you were.”

“I made a mistake. I’m still that person, Clarke.”

“No you’re not.” Clarke shakes her head, “The Lexa I thought I knew wouldn’t hurt me like you did. The Lexa I _thought_ I knew wouldn’t just stand there making excuses for everything.” Her voice wavers, “I was dumb enough to think you cared about me, but you haven’t even tried to fight for me once.”

“Because I don’t have a right to that.” Lexa argues, apparently finding some form of courage now and stepping forward, “Of course I care, Clarke. Of course I don’t want to see you with Niylah but you’re _right_. I messed up and I don’t have a right to be mad at you and I don’t have a right to try and make you feel guilty for shutting me out.” She is standing right in front of Clarke now, attempting to ensure she’s being heard, “You made it pretty obvious you didn’t want to hear from me.” She says, “I figured that space was the least I could give you.”

Clarke swallows, her hand rubbing at her eyes roughly to stop the beginning of a tear, “I’m so angry at you.” She murmurs out, pulling the sleeves of Lexa’s jacket over her hands and finding it easier to train her gaze on the garment instead of Lexa.

“I know.”

“ _God_ ,” Clarke chokes out, shaking her head in disbelief, “You fucked up, Lexa.”

Clarke looks up then, and Lexa simply nods.

Clarke doesn’t know what else to do.

She doesn’t want Lexa to go. She _should_ want her to go, but she doesn’t. What she _wants_ is to go back to the morning with Lexa before she looked at that stupid fucking phone. What she _wants_ is the Lexa who knew her enough to tell that she wasn’t okay; the Lexa who kissed her like she was the only person she wanted and made her feel like even with all the shit that was going on, everything would be okay.

What _do_ you do when the only person who you want to hold you and tell you everything’s going to be okay is also the only reason you’re hurting at all?  

Clarke’s been clutching at her anger so much that she hasn’t realized how much she’s missed just having Lexa near her. And she hates the fact that even now, when she should be repulsed by the girl, her body is yearning to reach out and find comfort in Lexa instead.

“Things with Costia… it’s complicated, Clarke.” she says, “I never planned on falling for someone else.”

Clarke’s not sure where to take it from here. Having Lexa actually admit she has feelings for her is something that should make her heart soar but instead it just makes her more terrified that she won’t be enough in the end. Thinking she never actually had a chance with Lexa is a lot easier to move forward with than the knowledge that she _almost_ had a chance but there was someone better _._ Nothing gets into your head more than the ‘what-if’s’ that come with the ‘almost’s’.

Lexa’s about to leave when Clarke reaches out to catch her hand and stop her.

She’s not really sure what she’s doing, but she just feels so _empty_ and maybe it’s the alcohol blurring her common-sense but Lexa’s here and telling her what she’s wanted to hear for months and just- she just wants to pretend for a second that maybe she _is_ enough. That she’s not just doomed to have the people she cares about leave her the moment someone better comes along.

Green eyes glance down to the contact, then moving up to meet Clarke’s, who’s still not quite sure what she wants to do next.

And Clarke’s never wanted to be one of those people that need contact for some form of validation but just- _god_ sue her for wanting to feel wanted for just a moment.

“Clarke-”

She leans in and the moment her lips meet Lexa’s it’s like Clarke’s taken the jump right off that cliff and she falls into the kiss with every emotion she’s had in the past weeks pushing her forward, seeking some kind of release.

Lexa freezes for a moment before she reciprocates, her fingers resting beneath Clarke’s chin to steady Clarke as she kisses her back softly; a firm and solid touch to Clarke’s shaky and breathless longing.

It’s when Clarke begins tugging Lexa closer that the taller girl must think better of it, and Lexa pulls away from the kiss, face flushed and regret written on her features.

“Clarke… you’re drunk.”

Clarke almost whimpers, pulling Lexa closer again, “And?”

“And you don’t actually want this.”

Clarke scoffs, pushing Lexa back, “So you’ve decided to start caring about what I want now?”

Lexa is visibly taken aback by the spiteful response, practically shrinking Clarke’s glare, “I’ll go.” She decides.

Clarke’s eyes sting and she turns her back to Lexa before the girl can see any tears fall, suddenly finding the couch a much more interesting thing to look at.

“Go, then.” Clarke bites out.

“I’m sorry.”

Clarke swallows back a response, not sure she’d even be able to get it out with how much her lips are trembling right now. Instead, she pulls Lexa’s jacket around her tighter, refusing to turn around and face her again.

She hears Lexa let out a sigh, and can feel Lexa step away from her.

“I’ll give you space, if that’s what you want.” Lexa says softly, “Just… I _know_ I don’t deserve it. But if you’d give me a chance to explain things, I promise I’ll tell you everything. No lies or excuses.”

Clarke doesn’t answer, and she hears Lexa begin to leave after a few more moments.

She doesn’t want Lexa to say anything else. She’s not sure she could handle any more talk after tonight. And the feeling of rejection is creeping up on her and close to pushing her over the edge all over again.

But still, when she hears Lexa leave, and the sound of the door closing behind her… she feels her heart break a little more anyway.

* * *

Two weeks later finds Clarke in the art studio attempting to make some progress on a painting, having woken up that morning with the realization that her work won’t just do itself, and if she doesn’t kick her ass into gear she won’t have anything at all when the showcase arrives. Students have begun leaving for Thanksgiving break, which means Clarke thankfully (pun kinda intended) can set up camp in the studio for the next week and rely on being generally unbothered unless Monty and Raven decide to leave their respective study to distract her.

She’s been doing her best not to think about Lexa. And Lexa has given her space, like she said she would. Clarke knows that when Lexa said she wanted to talk about things, the girl had been speaking in terms of a day or two after that night. But Clarke hasn’t had it in her to reach out.

Part of her wants to hear Lexa’s explanation, but another part of her wants to keep working on that whole ‘forget Lexa’s existence’ thing. Call it self-preservation. Clarke used to like how intense things always felt with Lexa. She’s the first person Clarke’s actually experienced that whole cliché ‘weak in the knees’, ‘butterflies in the stomach’ shit with. Clarke’s now realizing that intensity isn’t such a great thing, seeing as when it goes down hill, those feelings are _also_ two-fold.

Clarke’s surprised when Lexa’s impromptu visit that morning doesn’t ignite any irritation or ill-feeling in her, and when her eyes fall on the girl, she thinks maybe she was hoping Lexa would go back on her decision to give her space the whole time. Like Lexa had predicted, Clarke regretted kissing her when she woke up the next morning, and part of her has avoided this conversation out of pure embarrassment for acting out like she had.

Lexa is standing at the entrance of the art studio, hovering awkwardly like she’s already regretting showing up.

“Hey.” She breathes out anxiously, swallowing hard when Clarke doesn’t return the greeting.

Lexa looks more put-together than usual. No messy hair and ripped jeans. Instead she’s wearing a freshly polished pair of boots and tight, non-ripped black jeans, accompanied with a plain white T-Shirt and an incredibly soft-looking patterned cardigan buttoned at the front. Her hair is pulled up into a soft half-do, straighter than usual.

“I know I said I’d give you space.” Lexa starts then, “I just figured… maybe with the break… now would be a good time to talk.”

Clarke watches Lexa shift on her feet for a few moments, “Are you going to see your parents?”

Lexa visibly relaxes at the question, taking it as an invitation to move further into the room, “I’m flying out in a few hours.” She confirms.

Well, that explains the outfit. To be honest, Clarke had imagined a more military-like wardrobe when she thought of Lexa spending time with her parents. This look is so… soft.

“Where to?”

“Charleston.” Lexa says, “They’ll be on the move for Christmas so I’m staying longer. Making the most of it.”

Clarke nods, turning back to the painting in front of her and pretending that she doesn’t want to ask more questions about the topic. She reminds herself that she shouldn’t actually care about that part of Lexa’s life anymore.

“I have feelings for you, Clarke.”

Clarke freezes at the bold admission, her hand gripping the paintbrush in her hand tighter and remaining silent. Sure, Lexa admitted that the last time she saw her, but part of Clarke had convinced herself that had just been something she’d made up in her drunken daze. She hadn’t expected Lexa to repeat it.

“You were right. Taking care of you, spending all my time with you, wanting to see you at my games… all of that was because I like you. Because I wanted to be more than what we were. I just… wasn’t in a place to admit that. ”

She can hear Lexa shift on her feet again, the girl’s hands no doubt clasped behind her back in an attempt to keep herself grounded.

“Costia and I aren’t together; we haven’t been since last summer.” Lexa continues then, and Clarke hears the heavy breath she lets out, “We did the long distance thing for a bit but she was unhappy. When she visited me on campus, she ended up getting drunk and she-uh…”

Clarke allows herself to look over at Lexa, and she’s not sure she’s ever seen the girl look so uncomfortable before.

Part of her wishes Lexa would just _stop talking_. Because she doesn’t want to sympathize with her or see Lexa’s side of things. Because what the fuck is she supposed to do if she’s left without the anger? Then she’s just left feeling empty with the knowledge that she’s not Lexa’s first choice. And _god_ , that’s the last thing Clarke can handle right now.

Lexa lets out a sigh, continuing, “She cheated on me.” She says, “With Niylah, actually. And other people, I assume.” She lets out a hollow laugh, and _boy_ does Clarke wish she could un-hear that piece of information.

“I kind of think she _wanted_ me to catch her.” Lexa says, “Because the moment I called her out on it she started talking about breaking up. I was the idiot that didn’t want that, though.” She toys with the collar of her cardigan, shrugging, “So we decided to go on a ‘break’. Which I think was just a way for Costia to keep some type of hold on our relationship while getting to still explore being single. I went for it because I honestly couldn’t imagine wanting to be with anyone else. I don’t need to tell you that I’m not the best when it comes to other people… and I didn’t think I’d find someone else for me. So I decided I’d wait for her.”

Lexa finally meets Clarke’s eyes again then, and she shrugs weakly, “But then I met you and she just- she stopped being a factor.” She says, “I should have told you about her, Clarke. But when I met you, I hadn’t spoken to Costia for months. Up until she called me that morning, I was thinking our relationship was as good as dead. I just need you to know, I wasn’t seeing you and then calling her up telling her I loved her. It wasn’t like that; you weren’t just some replacement for her. I had feelings for you and I acted on them. What happened between us was always about how I felt about _you_. You need to believe me when I say you weren’t just something to fill a void. Costia has barely crossed my mind since I met you.”

“Why’d she call you?” Clarke asks, really just wanting to know if Lexa’s here just because Costia’s turned around and confirmed their ‘break’ an actual ‘break-up’ and is salvaging her back-up plan. “Does she want to get back together?”

“I have no idea, Clarke.” Lexa sighs, “I haven’t even answered her calls.”

“Right.” Clarke murmurs, “So what now?”

“… I don’t know.”

Lexa looks as disappointed by her own answer as Clarke is.

“I told you I’d be honest with you, and the truth is I don’t know what’s next yet. I _do_ know that I have feelings for you. And that all I’ve been able to think about has been you and what _you_ think about me. Not Costia.”

Clarke nods, hating that Lexa can be standing here telling her she cares for her, yet that _still_ might not mean she’ll be enough for her. What happens when Lexa _does_ answer Costia’s call?

“You know none of this changes what’s happened, right?” she says hesitantly, “I can’t trust you, Lexa. You knew what happened with Finn and you put me through that all over again.”

“I know.” Lexa says, “I just wanted you to know that you weren’t the only one who felt something with us. I never saw you as just a friend and it was stupid of me to treat you the way I did and make you think you didn’t matter to me. I might not know exactly where I stand right now, and I still have a lot to think through, but I do know how I feel about you. And I don’t expect you to forgive me or want anything to do with me but you deserve to know that it was never one-sided with us. It meant something to me; I just wish I’d told you earlier.”

Clarke swallows, looking back to her painting just so that she doesn’t have to keep staring back into heavy green eyes.

“I guess that’s everything I came here to say.” Lexa says in defeat, “Happy Thanksgiving, Clarke.”

Clarke hears Lexa go to leave, but her footsteps come to a halt early, and she must hesitate because a few tense moments of silence and Clarke staring at her canvas passes before Lexa speaks again.

“You said I never fought for you. And maybe it was a mistake for me to think I shouldn’t try.” She says, “But if you gave me a sign that you wanted me to… that I had the smallest chance…” Lexa pauses, and Clarke almost gives into the urge to turn around, “I’d fight for you, Clarke.”

Clarke’s throat is dry and her chest feels like it’s about to cave in, and she doesn’t know what she’d say to Lexa even if she _could_ manage to get something past her lips. She wishes Lexa could just let her hate her. Because now she’s left battling with the part of her that’s terrified of letting Lexa hurt her again, and the part of her that just wants to be with Lexa even if it means she might choose Costia over her in the end.

But telling herself she’s okay with scraps is what got her in this position in the first place, and Lexa’s too unsteady to place any kind of faith in right now. And space is probably better for the both of them.

So Clarke doesn’t say anything,

And Clarke lets her leave.

And she spends the rest of the semester wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! That was a monster of a chap lmao. Sorry for the length, guys. Also sorry for the wait again, I've had a bunch of personal and health issues and that's messed with me a bit. But holy crap thank you so much for all the comments on last chapter! I think it reached 170? It's so amazing that you guys actually care enough to read let alone leave comments. I really appreciate hearing what you think and know that I literally read them over again whenever I'm feeling it difficult to write. It's also overwhelming how nice you guys all are in the comments and the feedback you give. So yeah idk I just really really appreciate it and you guys are all kinds of awesome.
> 
> ANYWAY Niylah made a return lmao, so there you go those of you who were waiting for that. And I'm happy I finally got to drop the info on the Costia/Lexa situation, bc I've been lowkey teasing the Niylah tie-in in earlier chaps and it was one of the few easter eggs people didn't seem to catch onto! So for no Raven/Octavia for those of you who were holding out for that :( but those side-stories will be coming back in soon! 
> 
> Next chap will pick up during their winter break and I have some fun things planned for that (and I finally get to write in Wells yaaas). Clarke's a glum plum rn so she needs some fun times. Let me know what you guys thought of this chap! And if you have any Q's you want answered or just wanna see other things I've spoken about with this fic you can find me on tumblr as debnamridley
> 
> BUT YEAH thanks for being a bright light in what has been kinda a crappy year for me, it's the little things that count and thank you for being patient and leaving nice comments that bring up my days and make me feel all warm and fuzzy. <3 See ya next time!


	12. Chapter 12

It’s always slightly jarring visiting her parents. Growing up, Lexa never experienced the comfort and stability that a home can offer. Her family was on the move constantly, following wherever her parents’ careers took them and never staying in one place for long enough to settle in.

Sometimes her parents were placed together, other times they weren’t, and Lexa stayed with whichever one’s assignment allowed enough flexibility for her general existence.

She’d never minded it much growing up. It was just… life.

But now, having made a home for herself on campus, with Lincoln and Anya and her responsibilities as the captain of a sporting team… visiting her parents just reminds Lexa how happy she is she didn’t follow in the ‘family business’ after all.

People have always been Lexa’s home; not places. First it was just her parents, and then Costia. But there’s something to be said about the comfort of having one set place where Lexa can station herself for a set period of time, without worrying about having to up-and-move across the country or even overseas at the drop of the hat.

If her time visiting her parents on-base gives her anything, it’s the realization of just how different she is from the girl she used to be; in both good and bad ways. She never used to get close to people, figuring it was pointless to get attached as a goodbye was inevitably on the cards. Even when she was with Costia, the girl was the only person Lexa allowed herself to really create a bond with. Now, back on campus, Lexa has crowds of people she can be with at any time.

She likes it better this way. Lexa’s sure she would’ve gone crazy if she hadn’t had people like Lincoln and Anya walk into her life.

But one of the unfortunate changes Lexa’s observed is that with the positives comes vulnerability. Her younger self never would have been so weak as to stay with Costia after she cheated, she never would have made the mistakes she has with Clarke. And she wouldn’t be here, staring are her phone on the table terrified to just make a fucking call.

It’s coming to the end of Thanksgiving break and Lexa’s spent most of it jumping in on her parents’ training routines or suffering through the mass amounts of alone time she has on base. There’s not much for her to do here, so in-between catching up on study, her free time is spent attempting to figure out how she wants to approach Costia.

Which, doesn’t exactly take much time to figure out. Lexa knows she doesn’t want to be with Costia anymore. It’s just getting the guts to make that call that is taking a while.

“Commander Lexa.”

Lexa startles at the firm, deep voice, face flushing in embarrassment as she sends a half-hearted glare her father’s way. You’d think by the age of 20 she’d no longer affected by the authoritative bellow of the man.

Her dad laughs, clearly satisfied, “Where’s your head at, kid?”

Gustus Woods stands at a daunting height, all muscle and intimidation, yet surprisingly he was always the softest between Lexa’s parents. While Lexa’s mother rarely broke her stern and disciplined character, Gustus could never quite keep up the military-act when it came to Lexa. Even on the rare occasions where Lexa _did_ rebel against her parents growing up, Gustus was never one to scold her. While her mother frowned upon Lexa’s relationship with Costia, considering young romance a distraction and wasted energy, Gustus practically organized his daughter’s first date for her. While she looks the image of her mother, if a slightly softer version, Lexa’s found she takes after her dad when it comes to everything else.

Lexa sighs, shrugging, “Nowhere.”

Gustus eyes Lexa, clearly not buying the response, “The way you’ve been staring at that phone says something else.”

When Lexa glances up at him, her face must give her away completely, and the large man pulls out a chair at the table, dropping down into it and full attention turning to his daughter.

“Everything okay at school?”

“Fine.”

“Hm.” Gustus rests his chin in his hand, fingers running over his moustache lightly.

A smile tugs at Lexa’s lips at the action. Her father’s first move when he retires will be to grow out the messy beard he’s been longing for. With how strict the regulations are on appearance in his job, she’s surprised he bothers with the effort it takes to maintain the neat moustache. But then again, the one time Gustus _did_ decide to try the clean-shaven look, he almost had a heart attack over how significantly less intimidating he appeared.

“You know I’m gonna get it out of you eventually.” He says, sending Lexa a soft smile, “Wanna just cut to the chase and save us the trouble?”

Lexa frowns, but he has a point.

“It’s…” she sighs, pushing her phone away from her stubbornly, “Just things with Costia.”

Gustus’ eyebrows rise at that, “I haven’t heard that name in a while.” He says, “You back together?”

“No.” Lexa shakes her head firmly, “But I met someone else.”

“You _did_ , did you?” the large man leans forward on the table, grinning, “What’s her name?”

“Clarke.”

“Is Clarke your girlfriend?”

“… no.”

“Do you want her to be?”

Lexa rolls her eyes, feeling her cheeks heat up, “Dad…”       

“That’s a yes.” Gustus grins, reaching over the table to tussle Lexa’s hair teasingly and laughing when the girl swats him away, “Ah young love. So what’s the problem, then?”

Lexa eyes the phone in front of her, hesitating, “I just…” she glances up at her father, “Costia and I never completely finished. But I want to be with Clarke. I know that.” She says firmly, “But what if when I call Costia to tell her I’m moving on, she pulls me back in?”

“You really think she’d be able to do that?”

Lexa shrugs weakly, “I don’t know.”

She used to consider herself headstrong. She didn’t fuss with living in the greys, and thanks to her lifestyle she’d be moving on before anything could really touch her anyway. She was never one of those people who dwelled on her thoughts or let insecurities get to her.

But then Costia cheated on her, practically tearing Lexa’s heart right out of her chest in the process.

And instead of pushing her out of her life, like someone with any of pride or sense of self-worth would do… Lexa begged for a second chance.

Costia made her weak.

And what if distance has only made Lexa forget about the effect Costia can have on her? What if she hasn’t actually moved on? What if, the _moment_ she hears that voice, she’ll just be back to square one?

“Come on, kid. Give yourself some credit.” Gustus says, “Costia can’t make you do anything.”

“You don’t know how it ended with us, Dad.” Lexa shakes her head, eyes focused on the table shamefully, “I was pathetic.” She murmurs, “I thought I was better than that.”

Gustus watches Lexa carefully, letting out a sigh, “Look, I know your mom and I haven’t made all this stuff easy for you. We made you grow up too fast and you missed out on a lot of the things kids your age were supposed to go through.” The man says, “And your mom might like to act differently, but we all have our own weaknesses. It’s okay to not be a hard-ass all the time.” He reaches out, hand squeezing Lexa’s on the table lightly, “That doesn’t make you pathetic.”

“You think?” Lexa responds, doubtful.

“You’re allowed to have emotions, kid.” Gustus says, “Even your old man gets upset from time-to-time.”

Lexa lets out a soft laugh, “I just don’t know if I can talk to her. It’s been so long.”

“You should call her.” Gustus says firmly, “You’re a Woods. You don’t run away from your problems; you face them.” He squeezes Lexa’s hand again in reassurance, “Just tell her where your head’s at. Go in knowing what you want to say and say it. I promise, you’ll feel better getting it done instead of spending all your time thinking about it.”

Lexa smiles softly, heart aching and only now realizing her cheeks are wet with tears. She’s never enjoyed being apart from her parents, particularly her Dad. Before Costia, it was always Lexa and her parents against the world. Something tells her the goodbye this time around is going to be a lot more painful than usual.

“You know, I miss you guys.” She says softly.

“I know, kid.” Gustus smiles, “We miss you more.”

“I should call more.” Lexa decides, brow furrowing, “I don’t call enough.”

“All you should be doing is getting your ass into gear and making the most of everything.” Gustus says firmly, “Isn’t that why you went off to college anyway?”

Lexa laughs, using her spare hand to wipe at her cheeks, “So where do you go next?”

Gustus lets out a sigh, releasing Lexa’s hand and falling back in the chair, “Japan.”

Lexa nods, clenching her teeth and schooling her features. There’s no use making her father feel guilty when he has to follow orders no matter what.

Lexa’s never been the most emotional person when it comes to her parents, it just comes with the territory. But it does sting a bit when her friends can reach their parents in a quick drive or a skype-call, and she spends most of the year wondering where exactly in the world they actually are.

“You’re going together?” she asks hopefully.

“Same base.” Gustus nods, “We’ll be fine.”

“You can’t tell me any details, can you?” Lexa guesses.

Gustus grins, shaking his head, “Sorry, kid.”

“Not even a _little_ bit of information?”

Her father lets out a laugh, rising from his seat, “Not even a little.” He confirms, resting a hand on Lexa’s shoulder as he stands next to her, “Now pick up that phone and call Costia, alright?” he says, “Maybe if you do that, I’ll see if I can sneak you some info.”

He’s lying; he’d never give Lexa any information she’s not allowed to know.

But the child in Lexa still responds to the bait.

“Okay.” Lexa sighs, reaching up to squeeze Gustus’ hand before he moves out of the room, leaving her to settle her attention back on that stupid phone sitting in front of her.

Her father’s right.

(He usually is)

The sooner Lexa gets this over and done with, the sooner she can start moving forward.

And she’s spent enough of her break worrying about this call; it’s about time to gets the guts to actually make it.

Still, Lexa spends another ten minutes staring at her phone, heart hammering in her chest before she swipes it up and locates Costia’s number, taking another five minutes to actually hit dial.

It doesn’t ring for long, and the moment the call is picked up Lexa’s breath catches in her throat.

_“Lexa?”_

The sound of her voice already has Lexa feeling like she’s about to be sick.

“… hey.” She greets quietly.

Costia lets out a nervous laugh on the other end, _“I- um… I was beginning to think you’d changed your number. I’ve been trying to call you.”_

She says it as though Lexa isn’t aware; as though Lexa hasn’t been intentionally ignoring her for weeks.

“Yeah.” Lexa murmurs, “I know.”

There’s silence, and Lexa can imagine the curly-haired brunette’s weak nod as she accepts the blunt response.

_“How have you been?”_

Lexa used to love how kind Costia’s voice sounds. Even when she’s angry, Costia’s never able to sound even remotely threatening. When she first met her, Lexa had immediately been drawn to the calmness that the girl seems to just emanate. You couldn’t help but feel lighter when you were around her, with her soft, melodic laugh in your ears.

Now it’s just a painful reminder that no matter what, every rose has a thorn.

“Good.” Lexa says stiffly, “You?”

_“Fine, I guess.”_ Costia pauses, _“It’s good to hear your voice.”_ She says, _“I’ve… I’ve missed talking to you.”_

Lexa almost laughs bitterly, but she maintains her cold stance, not daring to give Costia something that she can run with, “You were the one that wanted space.” She responds dryly.

It’s not like it was _her_ idea to stop talking to each other completely.

If Costia missed her so much she could have just picked up the phone.

_“I did that for us.”_ Costia says defensively, _“It would have been too hard to keep talking after…”_

“After you cheated on me?” Lexa’s not able to hold back the remark, her jaw tightening as she hears the sigh Costia lets out.

_“I’ve said sorry for that, Lexa.”_

“Oh, I guess I should just get over it, then.”

_“No.”_ Costia responds, her voice calculated, _“But you know fixating on something neither of us can change is useless.”_

Lexa hates that she can practically _hear_ the gears in Costia’s head turning over how to play out the conversation. She’s always been good at navigating Lexa’s moods, which was a convenient thing when they were together. Now, when Lexa would prefer not to be manipulated to feel one way, it’s not such a positive.

_“Are you home for Thanksgiving?”_

“Yeah.” Lexa’s eyes are on her hand, fingers tapping against the surface of the table anxiously.

She didn’t call just to share small talk. But she’s also not sure how to approach what she wants to say.

_“How are your parents?”_

“They’re fine.” Lexa swallows, “How…. how’s your mother?”

_“She’s okay.”_ Costia lets out a soft laugh, _“I don’t think retirement’s as exciting as she expected.”_

Lexa smiles softly. It was midway through her senior year when her parents had received a new assignment in another state. She’d been with Costia for a year by then, and it had been Costia’s mother that had convinced Lexa’s parents to allow her to stay with them and finish her senior year at the school. Her ex-girlfriend’s family had become as much her own as her real one by the time she was off to college.

“And Aden?”

She’s certain Costia rolls her eyes at the mention of her little brother.

_“He’s still set on joining the army, despite everything I’ve told him.”_

Lexa laughs, “It’s not all bad.”

_“I know.”_ Costia softens, “ _I just don’t think he really understands what he’s signing up for.”_

It’s unsurprising Costia’s against the prospect of Aden enlisting; she spent enough time being Lexa’s crutch to be aware of the impact working in the military can have, both on those in it as well as their loved ones.

_“Maybe… maybe you could speak to him about it sometime?”_

“I didn’t join the military.”

_“Exactly. Hearing your reasons might make him reconsider.”_ Costia says hopefully, _“You know how much he hero-worshipped you.”_

Lexa smiles, “Tell him to give me a call.” She concedes, “I’ll see what I can do.”

She hears the breath of relief from Costia, _“You’re the best.”_

A silence settles over them, and discomfort settles in Lexa’s stomach as she shifts in her seat and attempts to gather the courage to get out what she called for.  

Costia beats her to it.

_“You know I really am sorry.”_ She says, _“I never should have hurt you like I did.”_

Lexa’s fingers stop tapping against the tabletop, hand bunching into a stressed fist instead, “You should have ended it.” She says, “If you weren’t happy, you should have just told me.”

Lexa still can’t understand how, after everything they’d been through together, Costia could turn around and act so selfishly. She’s not sure she’ll ever understand it, though. But maybe their bond was different for Costia.

Costia was the first person outside of her parents that Lexa truly cared about. She’d never stayed in one place long enough to make the strong connection others take for granted.

For Costia, a girl who was raised in the same one town, growing up with the same people and having one, firm home her whole life… maybe Lexa was simply another addition to the crowds of people that already loved her. Maybe for her, Lexa wasn’t so unique. She could be replaced.

_“I was confused and stupid.”_ Costia says, _“You deserved better.”_

Lexa is silent, and there are a few moments before Costia continues.

_“You’re probably wondering why I’ve been calling you.”_

“Actually… no.” Lexa says, voice quiet, “I didn’t call for that. I don’t… I don’t really _want_ to know why you called me.”

And it’s true. She doesn’t.

She wants to be with Clarke. Anything Costia could say is just going to make things more difficult than they have to be.

_“Lexa, please.”_

“No. I don’t… I don’t want to hear it, Costia.” Lexa presses firmly, “Look, I just called you because I wanted to tell you that I think we did the right thing. Ending it.”

_“… oh.”_

“You weren’t happy, and if I’m being honest I knew it wasn’t working too.” Lexa says, “And I think….” she takes a deep breath, voice wavering slightly, “I think we should stop calling it a break. It’s time to just cut our ties.”

_“Lexa…”_ Costia says, _“I still-”_

“It doesn’t matter.” Lexa shakes her head, “Please, Costia.” She lets out a sigh, running an exhausted hand down her face, “Just let me do this. I need to start moving forward.” She pleads, “You at least owe me that.”

Costia is silent for a moment, Lexa feeling her eyes begin to sting with tears again.

_“… if that’s what you want.”_

The weight of relief Lexa feels at the response is surprising.

She’d half-expected to be upset if Costia didn’t fight her. But honestly? She just feels like she’s finally allowed to breathe again.

“It is.” She confirms.

_“Is there someone else?”_

“That doesn’t matter.” Lexa says, “This is just about us. I’ll always-” she pauses, letting out a heavy breath, “I’ll always care for you, Costia. But I think it’s better for us to leave what we had in the past; otherwise we’re just going to ruin it.”

Costia laughs weakly, _“You mean more than I already have?”_

“I don’t hate you for what happened.” Lexa says, “I just need to move on.”

_“I know.”_ Costia sighs _, “Well… I guess that’s it, then.”_

Lexa’s head rests in her hand, “… I guess.”

They sit in silence for a while. To the point where if it weren’t for the quiet sounds of Costia’s breaths, Lexa would think she’d hung up.

If she’s being honest, Lexa knows the end of their relationship came long before this moment. But the finality of this call makes it so much more real. She can’t hide in denial after this, there’s no idea of a ‘break’ to cling to.

And for the first time, Lexa actually feels ready to leave it in the past.  

_“Stay in touch, Lex.”_ Costia says eventually, and Lexa can tell by the roughness to her voice that the girl is either crying or fighting it off.

A sad smile traces Lexa’s lips, the hockey player nodding, “You too, Costia.”

* * *

Clarke doesn’t intentionally avoid Lexa after Thanksgiving. It just… happens.

Granted, she doesn’t exactly seek the girl out. But with finals and her showcase, she really can’t afford to let Lexa get anymore in her head than she already has.

After the girl spoke to her before Thanksgiving, Lexa’s been just about the only thing on Clarke’s mind at all.

It’s annoying as shit, because now technically the ball is in her court.

Lexa’s been honest about her feelings, and she’s said she’ll fight for Clarke if Clarke gives her some sign that it’s something she wants.

Part of Clarke wants it. Okay, a whole fucking lot of her wants Lexa to fight for her and prove that she wants to be with her.

But there’s still that tiny voice at the back of her head reminding her that yeah, it’s all well and good for Lexa to _say_ she likes Clarke, but she still hasn’t actually ended things with Costia. What happens if she contacts Costia and the girl wants to get back together? Will Lexa just push Clarke aside then?

Due to the general mess of her emotions, Clarke decides she can’t afford the further damage it might do if she sees Lexa in the midst of her assessment, and it proves relatively easy to avoid running into her. Most students are either locked in their rooms or in the library studying, or in Clarke’s case locked in the art studio. She doesn’t know Lexa’s even back from Thanksgiving break until she’s walking home one afternoon and spots Lexa amongst the hockey team practicing on the fields. Clarke’s heart jumps to her throat and she quickens her pace before Lexa gets an opportunity to spot her.

She flies home the morning after her Winter showcase at the demand of her mother, meaning Clarke conveniently misses the end of semester party at Bellamy’s frat house. Based on the drunk call she receives from Octavia and Raven at four in the morning, Clarke missed out on a painful hangover. They mention that Lexa was there at the beginning of the night, but Clarke doesn’t manage to get any more information from the pair as they start giggling over Lincoln being forced into wing-manning Jasper at the party.

(Apparently even Lincoln can’t help Jasper’s dating life)

When she makes it back to Boston Clarke’s surprised to find her mother waiting for her instead of her boyfriend, Marcus, having expected the woman to be busy at work. Although the moment Abby pulls her into a tight hug, it becomes evident that her mom’s a lot more intuitive concerning Clarke’s mood lately than she thought.

She spends her first day home catching up with her mom, and despite the worried glances she catches her and Marcus sending her every now and then, Clarke’s happy to be back home.

Her bedroom is the same as it was when she was in high school, if a bit tidier, and Clarke spends much of her first few days home just sleeping and making the most of not having people around her 24/7. She didn’t realize how much everything back on campus had drained her until now, when she no longer has friends or assessment to distract herself with.

Abby attempts to coax information out of Clarke, with unsubtle questions about her dating life as she tries to determine just what has left Clarke as off-beat as she has been. She doesn’t have much luck, though, and eventually aborts her mission in favor of attempting to pick up Clarke’s mood instead.

Abby even goes so far as to attend a pottery class with her, which actually _does_ bring Clarke’s mood up. Abby’s not exactly the most talented artist, and watching her mother struggle in the first hour of the class has Clarke laughing and actually forgetting about Lexa. Surprisingly, her mother does actually walk away from the class with an impressively designed pot for a first-timer.

When they return home Abby presents the pot to Marcus with such pride that Clarke can’t help but grin at the almost childlike joy of it all. Marcus moved in some time last year, and the shift in the environment at home is evident.

The man brings out a lighter side in her mother that Clarke had thought was gone for good after her dad passed, and it helps Clarke sleep easier knowing she’s not the only thing her mom has anymore.

It’s her fourth day home when Clarke’s mom apparently decides she needs reinforcements to get her daughter back to her usual self, and she wakes to the feeling of her bed dipping under someone’s weight.

“Clarke?”

Clarke stirs at her mom’s soft voice, gripping to sleep as she feels gentle fingers running through her hair.

She lets out a grunt in response, face remaining buried in her pillow.

“You have a guest.”

That wakes Clarke up a bit more, managing to lift her head slightly from the pillow, “Who?”

Clarke gets her answer when a body is suddenly jumping on her, hearing the familiar laugh of her childhood best friend as Wells’ hands grip her shoulders and shake her teasingly.

“Wake up, Griffin!” he barks.

Clarke groans, burying further into her pillow, “I hate you.” She mumbles out through a smile.

She can hear her mom laughing softly as she stands up to give Wells the space to continue his assault on Clarke.

“You’ve been home almost a _week_ and I haven’t seen you!” Wells exclaims, “Time to quit being an antisocial shit.”

“You could’ve come by yourself.” Clarke points out, shoving at Wells half-heartedly as she rolls over and her friend lets up, the boy sitting at the edge of her bed with a grin.

“Well honestly I only just got back in town today. Dad had me doing work experience.” Wells admits, “But still, you could’ve called.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “You knew where to find me.”

The wide smile doesn’t leave her lips as she looks at Wells, taking in the slight changes in her friend’s appearance since the last time she saw him.

“Been working out?” She teases, sitting up on the bed and reaching over to squeeze his biceps just tight enough to make him pull away from her with a yelp.

“ _Actually_ , I have. Thanks for noticing.” He grins, “You’re looking good too. Frat parties haven’t destroyed your liver, yet?”

Wells was always more tame than Clarke, acting as the much-needed tether to keep her from completely rebelling against her mother during their high school years. While Clarke doesn’t have a bad relationship with her mom now, after her dad’s passing things had been tense at home. It had been Wells who had managed to keep her from straying too far amongst her grief.

Clarke, on the other hand, used to make it her job to ensure Wells broke out of his shell every now and then. When college came around, Wells opted to stay close to home in Boston, set to follow in his father’s footsteps in politics and learn the ropes from him as he studies.

Lexa reminds Clarke of Wells, in that way. Both of them set on their own carefully planned out futures.

“My liver is just fine, thank you very much.” Clarke quips, looking over to her mom and batting her eyelashes innocently, “ _I’m_ underage. I don’t drink.”

Abby actually rolls her eyes at that, making Wells laugh and Clarke just sigh in defeat.

Her mom has had too many facetime calls with a blatantly hung-over Clarke to believe that claim.

“Okay, get out of bed.” Abby orders, “ _You_ two have some shopping to get done if you want to come to my Christmas party.”

Clarke pouts, “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“I’d prefer you not to show up in something with paint stains on it.”

Wells grins, looking to Clarke, “In that case you’re definitely gonna need new clothes.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, shoving the boy, “Shut it.”

* * *

Per her mom’s request, Clarke and Wells make their way to the mall in search of suitable outfits for her mom’s fancy-ass Christmas party, and after a few painful hours of shopping Clarke finds success in a simple, long black dress. Wells forces her to buy heels (Clarke’s certain Abby has paid him to do this), and Clarke in return gets to enjoy putting her friend through the torture of being fitted for a suit.

Even though she knows the party is going to be about as boring as her Art History class, Clarke finds some amusement in the chance to dress-up and play pretend amongst Boston’s richest, finest and douchiest. It feels almost like stepping over into enemy lines.

After finding their outfits they spend the rest of the day in the arcade, something the pair used to do in their high school years together to pass the time and avoid their respective parents for a while.

While Clarke loves the friends she’s made in college, there’s something about Wells she can’t replace; and she decides coming home for Christmas might just be exactly what she needed.

She starts sketching again, for herself instead of for some form of assessment, and she _finally_ manages to draw something that doesn’t resemble a certain hockey player, and Clarke feels like she’s getting a bit of herself back again.

She’s sitting in the living room two days before Christmas Eve, sketchbook in her lap and pencil scratching away at the paper and music playing from her speakers when Marcus comes walking in.

He picks up his book off the coffee table and Clarke offers the man a soft smile before turning her attention back to her sketchbook.

Abby’s at work, and Marcus is already on leave for Christmas, so the pair have spent a considerable amount of alone-time over the past few days.

What’s different now, is that Marcus is lacking his usual calm composure, perching down in the armchair closest to the couch Clarke is on and looking like a ball of anxiety as his fingers tap against the book in his hands.

Clarke can feel Marcus’ eyes constantly darting to her, and she frowns at the man’s anxiousness as he shifts in his chair.

When she can’t take the annoying tapping anymore, Clarke turns her full attention to her mother’s boyfriend, frowning, “You’re acting weird.”

Marcus’ eyes widen comically, and Clarke would laugh if she weren’t just completely confused by the sudden change in his usually steady presence.

He lets out a soft laugh then, although it feels forced, “Sorry, Clarke.” He says, “Nerves.”

Clarke’s confused frown deepens, “What’re you nervous about?”

Marcus watches her for a moment, apparently deliberating something, before he straighten up in his seat, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees as he focuses completely on Clarke.

“I love your mother, Clarke.” He says, “More than anything.”

“… okay.” Clarke snorts, “And?”

“It means a lot to me that you and Abby have accepted me into your family.”

Clarke frowns, unable to stop the awkward laugh that falls from her lips at the seriousness to Marcus’ tone, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” Marcus says quickly, “It’s actually… it’s perfect.” He shifts again, “What I’m getting at is… I’ve been thinking lately about making a more… solid commitment.” He takes a deep breath, meeting Clarke’s eyes, “I’m planning on proposing.”

Clarke pauses in stunned silence at the admission.

She’d never actually considered that her mom might remarry at some point.

Marcus rambles on before Clarke can respond.

“I love your mother, Clarke. And you, as well. You two have become my family and I… I would want nothing more than to be able to make a commitment to you and Abby.” He says, “But I don’t want to ask Abby without knowing I have your support first.”

Clarke’s sketchbook is forgotten now, fallen to the side of the couch, “You’re asking me for my… approval?”

“Of course.” Marcus says it as though it’d be ridiculous not to, which makes a smile tug at Clarke’s lips.

“Okay.”

Clarke’s taken by surprise at her sudden response herself, not having expected to be so readily accepting of the idea.

Then again, Clarke hadn’t even thought it was on the cards, so she has no idea _how_ she expected herself to react at all.

“I… _yeah_.” Clarke grins, nodding firmly, “Yeah- okay.” she laughs at the massive grin that spreads across Marcus’ face.

“You’re sure you’re okay with it?” Marcus checks.

Clarke nods, getting up off the couch and moving over to wrap the man in a tight hug, “Definitely.” She confirms.

And she means it.

“You make her happy.” Clarke says, “Why wouldn’t I want that?”

“I know how close you were to your father.” Marcus says, “I don’t want you to think I’m trying to replace him-”

“Marcus, it’s fine.” Clarke smiles, “Dad would want mom to be happy. You’re good for her.”

Marcus isn’t the type of man to cry, but when he pulls away Clarke notices the slight wetness to his eyes and her heart swells, “I really do love her, Clarke.”

Clarke laughs, “Yeah,” she grins, “I think I figured that part out.”

* * *

Christmas Eve arrives and with it so does Abby’s Christmas party.

Clarke’s already done with the night the moment she puts on her heels, and as they wander through the crowds of people she clings to Wells’ arm and demands they spend the night stealing away flutes of champagne and ensuring she’s drunk enough that she forgets about the pain in her feet.

The event’s as douchey as Clarke expects, basically a meeting of rich people to elevate each other and pat themselves on the back. Clarke has no idea why her mom even goes, but apparently it’s good ‘networking’ or whatever.

(Clarke doesn’t understand why a doctor needs to network at all, really. She’s certain there isn’t a shortage of patients out there)

It’s entertaining, at least, to watch as Abby navigates her way through the crowd with a strained smile, her only source of actual enjoyment being when she and Marcus are left alone to mock their peers together.

Clarke’s heart warms at the sight knowing Marcus is set to propose over the New Year. With Clarke flying back to Cali early for the New Years Eve party that Bellamy and Octavia are throwing, it was her suggestion that Marcus use that time to plan something for Abby. A New Year’s proposal is cheesy, sure, but really what else _is_ better than bringing in the New Year with a proposal and a happily ever after?

One unfortunate outcome of all this love and happiness has been that Lexa’s jumped right back into her mind all over again. Every time she sees Marcus look at her mom like she’s his whole fucking world, Clarke can’t help but think of how she wishes she could have that with someone.

Except not just ‘someone’.

Lexa.

And something about Christmas time just brings out the loneliness in her, honestly. Everywhere she looks there are couples cuddling up and reminding her she doesn’t have that.

So really, a night of expensive champagne is exactly what Clarke needs right now.

She and Wells situate themselves on the edge of the large venue, sat at a now-deserted table and eating as much free food as they can stomach while they throw back flutes of champagne. Clarke’s sure if she didn’t have Wells with her she’d have ditched this party within the first ten minutes.

“Your mom says she’s worried about you.” Wells says later in the night, his eyes focused on where Clarke’s fingers have been tapping against the flute of champagne anxiously for the past ten minutes, the blonde lost to her thoughts not for the first time in the night, “Did something happen at school?”

Clarke laughs weakly, “It’s nothing.” She shrugs it off, but the significant swig of the champagne following that probably gives her away, “You know how much my mom worries; she thinks I’m twelve.” She says, “She just doesn’t like me being so far away.”

“I don’t know,” Wells shrugs, watching Clarke like he knows she’s bullshitting him, “You’ve been acting different.”

“I’m just tired.” Clarke murmurs, slouching in her seat and watching the people around the venue.

(They’re all ridiculously fucking boring, so she can’t even distract herself with that)

She feels Wells’ eyes on her, and she glances over at him, letting out an irritated sigh at the worried look on his face. She’s never been good at running from her issues when it comes to Wells.

“It’s a girl.” She explains, “ _Lexa_.”

“Is this a… girlfriend?”

Clarke chuckles, “Nope. Couldn’t even get _that_ far.” She looks over at Wells’ confused expression, sighing, “It’s a long story.” She shrugs, “Don’t really wanna get into the details.”

Wells, thankfully, has never been one to push, and he accepts it with a nod.

Clarke, however, finds herself unable to stop from continuing despite her claim.

“It’s just-” she huffs, shaking her head, “I’ve been fine, you know? Like I’ve been having fun. I was starting to stop thinking about her constantly.” She says, eyes moving to her champagne with a frown, “And then _bam_ , she’s back in my fucking head all over again.”

Wells laughs, “You know, you don’t have the best taste in people.” He points out, “I hated that Finn guy.”

“You’re not the only one.” Clarke grumbles, “But Lexa’s not like that.”

She’s not sure why she feels the need to defend Lexa.

Maybe it’s the alcohol.

(And also the fact that her dumbass is still fucking head over heels for the girl)

“It’s just… different.” Clarke continues, “I feel different with her. Well, I _did_. I thought it was different.”

“So why aren’t you with her?”

“She messed up and hurt me.” Clarke says weakly, “Now I don’t know if I can give her another chance or not. Or if I even believe that she actually wants to be with me and I’m not just some second choice.”

Wells whistles, “That’s rough.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Is she hot?”

Clarke laughs, taken aback by the question, “I guess.” She shrugs, then grins, “Okay, yeah. She’s like, gorgeous. She’s a hotshot hockey player as well.”

“Nice.”

The champagne must be fueling Clarke now, because for some reason she feels the need to keep talking.

“You should see her tattoos. Like, _fuck_.” Clarke sighs, “When I first met her I thought she was some total badass- she almost took me out with a fucking hockey stick- _long_ story. But she’s actually like… a huge nerd. And when she gets drunk she gets all cuddly and practically turns into a puppy.” She says, “She tries _so_ hard to act tough but once you get to know her-”

The rest of Clarke’s night consists of her accidentally gushing about Lexa to Wells.

(In the morning, when she wakes to Wells’ merciless teasing, she denies it ever happened)

* * *

 

Christmas passes and Clarke leaves for California feeling more alive than she’s felt in weeks. It’s a surprisingly emotional goodbye for her mom this time, Abby pressing that Clarke calls more than she has been and demanding she put aside a weekend to visit earlier in the semester before assessment gets too heavy. Clarke says goodbye to Marcus with a knowing smile and a whispered request that he keeps her updated on his proposal plans.

Thankfully, Clarke doesn’t have to say goodbye to Wells just yet, having convinced his father to let Wells come back to California with Clarke for New Years Eve.

It didn’t take much convincing, really; being the world’s most well-behaved son has it’s positives, and Clarke’s certain Wells’ dad is worried by how little mischief the boy actually gets up to. Thelonious Jaha used to disapprove of Clarke’s influence over Wells, but now it seems he wouldn’t mind if Wells started to embrace more of his rebellious side.

When Clarke and Wells land at the airport, they’re met with tight hugs from Raven, who already met Wells thanks to a trip to Boston last summer.

It’s two days until New Year’s Eve, and they have a roughly five-hour drive before they arrive at the family cabin where Octavia and Bellamy are hosting the New Year’s festivities. And after stocking up on as much food and booze as they can fit in Raven’s small car, they are on their way to what Clarke hopes will be a carefree New Year.

Wells falls asleep one-hour into the car ride, strewn over the back seats and head resting against the window, mouth hanging open as light snores come from him. Clarke makes sure to snap some pictures of the comical scene.

“So. Five days sharing the same cabin with Bellamy.” Clarke starts as she makes a road playlist on her phone, “You think you can handle it?”

“I’m actually kinda hoping this will force him to finally talk to me.” Raven says, shrugging, “He’s gotta quit pretending I don’t exist eventually.”

Clarke scrunches up her nose, “You guys didn’t speak over the break?”

“I went to their place to see O a couple of times, but he was never around. He avoided me like the plague at the end of semester party.” Raven chews on her bottom lip, “I dunno.” She sighs, “I think he might be done with me completely.”

“He’s just Bellamy. You know how much he likes to hold a grudge.”

“I guess.”

“Maybe if you force the conversation on him-”

Raven laughs, shaking her head, “ _No_ , not happening. I’m keeping my distance; I don’t wanna piss him off anymore.”

“So what about Anya, then?”

Raven’s expression completely drops at the mention of the girl, and she almost looks guiltier than she did over Bellamy.

“I don’t know.” Raven says softly, “I haven’t spoken to her.”

Clarke groans, “Raven…”

“I know, I know.” Raven rolls her eyes, “I just- I dunno. It feels kinda shitty to keep seeing her after the Bellamy stuff.”

“But you like her.”

“How you feel about someone isn’t always the most important thing, Clarke.” Raven drawls, “If it was, you’d still be with Lexa.”

“This isn’t about me and Lexa.” Clarke scowls, “And Anya hasn’t done anything wrong. Bellamy might have feelings for you, but that doesn’t mean you have to put your own life on hold to make sure he feels comfortable.”

“I know I don’t have to. But Anya’s also someone _he_ was into. I can’t just go off and run into the sunset with Anya while Bellamy’s left feeling like shit.” Raven says, “Bell’s been in my life longer than Anya has. I won’t pick her over him. I mean, think about it. How would _you_ like it if I started dating Lexa behind your back?”

Clarke’s stomach turns at the thought of seeing Lexa with _anyone_ else, let alone Raven.

“Never put that image in my head again.” She growls out, receiving an eye-roll from Raven.

“Just sayin’.”

Clarke sighs, looking back at Wells for a moment and finding the boy still completely passed out. When she turns back around in her seat, she notices Raven wearing a worried frown.

“Ray?”

Raven glances to her, letting out a heavy sigh, “I just-” she huffs, shaking her head, “I had no idea he’d react as badly as he did to the Anya thing.”

“Yeah, well… there’s a lot of unsaid things there, I guess.” Clarke pauses, unsure whether to broach the subject.

She’s had the conversation with Bellamy, but Raven’s never actually even discussed what happened between them with Clarke. Before Bellamy told her his side of things, Clarke had always assumed the pair hadn’t had anything more than a drunken night of sex. Clearly she completely misread _that_ situation.

“Just say it.” Raven mumbles out, recognizing the conflicted expression on Clarke’s face.

“Okay. Well… do you- what _really_ happened when you and Bell hooked up that time?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- was it more than just a drunken fling?”

Bellamy’s already told her they weren’t drunk; but this conversation is more for Raven’s sake than Clarke’s own interest. Raven’s always had a habit of pushing things to the side and never dealing with them; this is no different. The girl could do with a reality check.

Raven is quiet for a few beats, eyes firmly on the road ahead and hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“Raven.”

The mechanic huffs, “Well I might have lied about the drunk part.”

“ _Why_?” Clarke pushes, exasperated, “It’s just Bellamy. No one would have judged you if you liked him.”

“It’s not like that I just- I didn’t wanna make it out to be more than it was, okay?”

“Well you were sober. You can’t just blame alcohol.”

“I got caught up in the moment.” Raven grumbles, “I dunno. It just happened. I was in a bad place dealing with my leg injury and you were off with Finn and Octavia had Atom and I don’t know… Bellamy was there for me.”

“So sex just seemed like the logical option.”

“Don’t be a dick.” Raven scolds, “It just _happened_. I mean- it didn’t _mean_ anything, you know? It was just for comfort.”

“You sure about that?”

“Bellamy was practically the frat poster boy.” Raven says, “There’s no way anything would’ve worked between us. We piss each other off too much.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Raven’s jaw tightens, her eyes narrowing as she focuses on the road, “I don’t know, okay?” she says, glancing to Clarke briefly, “I guess yeah- maybe there _were_ some feelings. But he was as blunt about it being a mistake as I was. We agreed that it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Clearly he was lying.”

“ _Clearly.”_

Clarke sighs, “So after all that, you thought it was a good idea to go after the girl he was into?”

She knows it’s not completely Raven’s fault. Bellamy didn’t help his situation by pretending he didn’t care for the girl when things happened between them.

But it makes sense that this has happened now.

Bellamy and Raven are both as hardheaded as each other, _of course_ they’d both protect their pride instead of admitting they had feelings and risk rejection.

“I _didn’t_ think, Clarke.” Raven bites out, “I know I’m supposed to be the ‘genius’ or whatever but no, I fucking didn’t think. I just did. If I’d known Bellamy actually had feelings for me at some point, I wouldn’t have done anything with Anya.” she says firmly, “But Bellamy’s so fucking closed off- I didn’t think he would actually care, okay?”

It’s true. Bellamy couldn’t expect Raven to know she was broaching a soft spot if he spent all his time pretending they were just friends who pissed each other off on the regular.

“Do you still like him?”

Raven sighs, “No.” she admits, “But he still means a lot to me, you know? I don’t wanna lose him in my life.”

“You won’t.” Clarke says, “You guys have too much fun pissing each other off.”

That gets a smile from the girl, “Ever wish we could go back to when our biggest drama was Bellamy being too protective of O?”

Clarke laughs, remembering how much time was spent in their freshman year listening to the lectures Bellamy would give his sister over the ‘risks of trusting frat guys’ (despite the fact that he’s one himself).

"Honestly, you couldn’t pay me enough to go back to dorm-life.” She grins, “I’ll take this drama over that shit any day.”

“True.”

“You know, I still can’t believe you never told me how deep it was with you and Bell. I always thought it was just a drunk fuck.” Clarke says, “I mean, I get not telling Octavia; she probably wouldn’t survive hearing about her brother like that.” Clarke laughs softly, “But you could’ve at least told _me.”_

“You were off with Finn when it was happening.” Raven shrugs, “I didn’t wanna deal with the shit you’d give me for it.”

“How come _you_ always get to keep your romantic life a secret? I never even had a choice with Lexa.”

Raven grins, “I’m just stealthy like that.” She teases, “Besides, you’re loud as fuck. You couldn’t hide that you had a new sex buddy even if you tried.”

Clarke groans, punching Raven’s thigh in annoyance.

Wells wakes up to Raven’s painfully embarrassing dramatic rendition of Clarke moaning Lexa’s name, and Clarke decides she really needs new friends.

* * *

 

They reach the cabin just past three in the afternoon, Octavia bounding out of the place with Bellamy dawdling behind her to help bring in their bags.

“Took you long enough!” Octavia exclaims, wrapping the trio in a hug each.

Like Raven, she’s met Wells a number of times before, and she barely bats an eyelid at the extra addition to their New Year attendees.

Clarke grins as she takes in the huge cabin before her, noting the other three cars in the drive. Apparently, they’re the last to arrive. Which is surprising, seeing as she’d half-assumed Monty and Jasper would forget the decided arrival date and show up a day later.

She greets Bellamy with a hug and introduces him to Wells, offering Raven an apologetic smile when Bellamy awkwardly passes her by and moves to the trunk of the car.

“This for us?” Bellamy asks awkwardly as he points to the bags of various food and drinks they’ve brought along.

He’s directly addressing Raven, which takes everyone (except for Wells, who gets to be blissfully ignorant to the tension within the group) by surprise. Clarke and Octavia share astonished expressions as Raven looks back at Bellamy, frozen for a moment.

“Um- yeah.” She nods, “Hope it’s enough.”

Bellamy nods, swiping up as many bags as he can take before heading inside.

Raven watches as he goes, stunned, “Did he just-” she looks to Clarke and Octavia, “He just _spoke_ to me, right?”

“Yep.” Octavia beams, pinching Raven’s side before grabbing some of the bags from the car as well, “Don’t fuck it up.”

* * *

 

Clarke and Raven don’t even bother to greet the rest of their friends as they barrel inside the cabin, making a beeline for the room Octavia firmly set aside for them and claiming complete ownership of it as they dump their bags inside. Aside from the Octavia and Bellamy’s rooms, there are only two other larger ones. Clarke wonders who has claimed the second one before she’s distracted by the amusing dread written over Wells’ features when he finds out he’s sharing the floor of Bellamy’s room with the company of three other guys.

The fact that Murphy is amongst those guys almost has Clarke offering up the floor of her and Raven’s room- but Wells’ snoring is _not_ something she’s about to willingly deal with over the next five days.

Having changed into warmer clothing, Raven and Clarke are making their way down the staircase of the cabin when they’re stopped by an anxious Octavia, and Clarke immediately has a sense that she’s not going to like whatever her friend has to say.

“Uh- actually, I should probably warn you guys.” Octavia starts awkwardly, running a hand through her hair.

“What?” Raven frowns, arms crossed in front of her chest, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What? No!” Octavia scoffs, then a fond smile traces her lips, “Although how cute would baby Lincoln’s be?”

“Don’t even think about it.” Clarke groans.

“Seriously if Lincoln knocks you up I’m kicking his ass.” Raven threatens, only slightly teasingly, “And then I’ll kick _your_ ass.”

Clarke grins, looking back to Octavia, “What’s the actual problem?”

Octavia sighs, nodding and remembering her reason for stopping, “Uh- well… you see, I kinda accidentally invited-”

Octavia doesn’t get her sentence out as she’s cut off by the door opening, the trio’s attention turning to look at who’s entering downstairs.

Clarke spots Lincoln over the staircase bannister first, donned in winter running gear and laughing about something whoever his company is has said.

“Quit whining, Anya.” Lincoln scolds, and Clarke feels Raven freeze next to her as Anya walks into their line of sight, “It’s barely even a scratch.”

“It fucking hurt.” Anya grumbles back.

Clarke looks to Raven, then to Octavia, who looks guilty as ever, and she knows it’s not _just_ going to be Anya following Lincoln in. And when she hears a distinct, third laugh and the door shut, her prediction is confirmed.

She doesn’t need to see her to know who it is, doesn’t even need to hear her voice to know. She could sense Lexa’s presence a fucking mile away.

“I told you the trail was slippery.” The third voice scolds, and Clarke’s stomach drops like an anvil, “You shouldn’t have…”

Lexa’s voice trails off as she comes to stand at the bottom of the staircase, green eyes falling on Clarke.

“I’m _so_ sorry.” Octavia hisses out.

And well, there goes Clarke’s carefree New Years Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet y’all didn’t expect THIS so soon! I can’t believe I’m actually updating without having spent over a month struggling with it. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the lack of clexa in this chap, I felt it was important to show them away from each other during their break, especially to see Clarke being semi-okay and having fun at home. But you finally got to semi-meet Costia! And Gustus as Lexa’s dad :3 I purposefully excluded her mom in this bc she’d be an OC, and Lexa’s much closer to Gustus so I figured keep it tight. I’m super happy I finally got to write Wells in too :3 
> 
> ANYWAY I have so much fun stuff planned for this NYE chapter oh boyyy you guys don’t even know what’s coming. If you can’t tell I’m ridiculously excited for it lmao. Lots of things are happening! Sorry for the cliffhanger! Also Octavia inviting Anya/Lexa will be explained lmao, for those of you who might be angry at her.
> 
> Thank you again for all the comments on last chap, I can never say thank you enough for all the lovely feedback people give. Like jesus… you hit over the 100 mark again last chap. That’s so awesome.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chap! And if you have any NYE predictions ;) see ya soon!


	13. Chapter 13

Clarke is frozen in her spot as she stares dumbly at Lexa, and it’s Raven who actually kicks into gear (apparently entering flight-mode at the sight of Anya), and grabs Clarke and Octavia’s hands before turning on her heel and dragging the pair back upstairs to their bedroom.

When the door closes behind them, Clarke manages to find her voice again, turning on Octavia with a confounded expression.

“You invited _Lexa?!”_ she exclaims, “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry!” Octavia hisses, “I couldn’t _not_ invite her. She’s my friend, too.”

Clarke balks, “Since _when_?”

Yeah, Lexa had kind of become a part of their friendship group this year. But it’s not like she spent much time with anyone exclusively outside of Clarke and Lincoln.

“Since she spent Christmas with Lincoln.” Octavia shrugs, “We kinda hung out a lot. Her and Bell get along, too.”

Clarke groans, “You couldn’t have given me a heads up?”

“Well then you wouldn’t have come.” Octavia points out.

Raven looks between the two, “Uh, _hello?_ ” she says, glaring at Octavia, “What about Anya?!”

“Well they’re kinda a package deal, you know? I think she’s so over you ignoring her she decided it was time to force your hand.” Octavia shrugs helplessly, “Come on, guys. Don’t get mad. It’ll still be fun, just you know… spend time with other people.”

“We’re in a _cabin!_ ” Clarke exclaims, “You can’t avoid anyone stuck in here!”

“The mountains are an option.” Raven grumbles, and Clarke’s not sure she’s even joking.

“Hey, it’s a big cabin.” Octavia argues, “And we’re doing other things while we’re here. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe it’ll be good for you guys.”

“I haven’t spoken to Anya in weeks!”

“Maybe now you guys can actually sort things out.” Octavia rolls her eyes, “You owe her an apology, at least.”

“I hate you.” Raven states, arms crossed in front of her chest and looking to Clarke before back to Octavia, “We hate you.”

Clarke just sighs, passing Octavia and giving into the inevitable and forgoing the option of arguing further.

(Because then she might have to admit that when she saw Lexa at the bottom of the staircase, dread is far from what she felt)

* * *

 

Clarke doesn’t immediately seek Lexa out, instead deciding to give herself some preparation time and finding Monty and Jasper in Bellamy’s room playing some video game while Wells watches on.

They spend the earlier part of the afternoon there, with Clarke managing to relax enough to find herself coming to terms with the idea of spending the next five days in such close quarters to Lexa. And when she and the boys eventually move downstairs to join everyone else, the kitchen is filled with their friends either hanging around with drinks in hand or snacking on the mass amounts of food on the island.

Lexa is notably missing.

And like the idiot she is Clarke just can’t accept that and let it go.

She nudges Octavia, garnering her friend’s attention.

Octavia’s already wearing a dopey, drunken smile as she regards Clarke.

“Where’s Lexa?”

Octavia smile widens, “Thought you were gonna steer clear of her.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Well if we’re stuck here for five days I don’t want to make it awkward for everyone else.”

“She said she was planning on giving you space.” Octavia shrugs, “You don’t need to talk to her if you don’t want to.”

“No. It’s fine. I should talk to her.”

“You _want_ to talk to her.” Octavia teases, “This must be the shortest grudge you’ve ever held.”

“Shut up.”

Octavia laughs, “She’s outside trying to get the fire started.”

Clarke sends Octavia a pointed glare at her friend’s continued amusement, and only waits a few moments before she wanders off.

Like Octavia said, Clarke finds Lexa outside, crouched near the pit and working on lighting the fire.

Clarke’s hit with the biting cold air as she moves outside, garnering Lexa’s attention as the door closes behind her. She notices how the girl’s eyes widen when she looks up to find Clarke there.

“… Hey.” Clarke greets awkwardly, moving closer.

Lexa offers her a hesitant smile, “Hi.”

The hockey player’s attention turns back to the pit, focused on arranging the kindling on top of the tinder already in the center of it.

Clarke would be offended by Lexa’s nonchalance over her presence, if the harsh furrow to the girl’s brow didn’t give away just how hard she actually is finding keeping from looking back at Clarke.

She considers going back inside for a moment. She hadn’t exactly planned on speaking to Lexa any time soon before today happened.

But unlike Clarke expected, she doesn’t feel angry about Lexa being here. Honestly, having Lexa in such close proximity right now just reminds her how much she’s missed the girl amongst all of her anger of the past month.

Clarke doesn’t dwell on it, though. Telling herself that it’d just be stupid anyway to go back inside and make everyone suffer through five days of awkwardness between her and Lexa. They’re both stuck here; she might as well try to salvage the fun trip she’d been hoping for to begin with.

So, Clarke walks over, sitting down in one of the seats surrounding the pit and watching Lexa.

“How was your Christmas?”

Lexa looks surprised by Clarke’s effort to start conversation, and she shrugs, “I spent it with Lincoln and his dad.” She says, “It was nice. We- uh… we actually spent a lot of time with Octavia and Bellamy.”

“Yeah.” Clarke nods, “O told me.”

Lexa purses her lips, her full attention turning to Clarke, “I’m sorry if this is awkward.” She blurts, meeting Clarke’s eyes, “I didn’t really think about it before I accepted Octavia’s invitation here.”

“It’s okay.”

“Is it?” Lexa says, looking doubtful, “I mean- I get if you want to be mad at me.” She argues, “I said I’d give you space and- well… I guess this is kinda the opposite of that.”

“They’re your friends, too.” Clarke says, nodding to inside, “I mean, I didn’t expect to see you here, but… you’re allowed to be here.”

“I can still stay out of your way, if that’s what you need. You don’t have to pretend to be okay around me.”

“No.” Clarke say a bit too quickly, “I mean- it’s fine. I don’t want things to be awkward, you know?” she says, letting out a sigh, “Let’s just have fun, okay?”

Lexa smiles, nodding, “Okay.”

Lexa must assume the conversation is over then, turning back to the pit.

But instead of wandering back inside, Clarke remains in her place, desperate to force the awkwardness between them aside.

She knows she probably shouldn’t care as much as she does about this. But it’s easy to pass off this need as a simple wish to keep things relaxed amongst their friends.

“So how’d you end up with this job?” she asks.

Lexa’s visibly surprised by Clarke remaining there, “Bellamy wasn’t having much luck with it.” She shrugs, “I figured I’d get it started quicker.”

A smile tugs at Clarke’s lips, “Is Fire Master another thing that comes with the title of Army Brat?”

Lexa lets out a soft laugh, and Clarke is taken aback by it, having almost forgotten the sound of it.

“No, actually.” She says, rolling her eyes, “I- uh…” Lexa looks back to the pit, fiddling with the kindling, and Clarke catches how red her ears have gotten, “I was a Girl Scout for a while.”

“No way.”

Lexa looks over at Clarke, eyes narrowing, “Don’t.”

Then Clarke allows the laugh to leave her lips, Lexa groaning in annoyance, “Oh _wow_.” She grins, “So you wore the little uniform and everything?”

“It’s not that funny.” Lexa grumbles.

“Did you sell cookies?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“You totally did.” Clarke laughs loudly, unable to stop at the thought of a younger Lexa as a Girl Scout.

(Honestly, she can barely even imagine it. And knowing Lexa, she either wore a scowl the whole time, or took the thing way too seriously.)

“Please tell me there are photos somewhere.”

Lexa huffs, fussing about with the matches and getting set on lighting the tinder, “None that you’ll ever see.”

Like that, Clarke feels the awkwardness drop and guards fall, and even if it’s just for now, she’s happy for it.

It scares Clarke how easily they fall back in step with one another like this. How while being around Lexa has been the hardest thing at times, it’s also been the easiest. It scares her how despite everything, she still feels some form of comfort in just talking to Lexa.

* * *

 

Clarke excuses herself upstairs soon after Lexa gets the fire lit, needing some brief time separate from the girl to allow herself to gather her thoughts.

It’s overwhelming, having Lexa suddenly thrown into her space after avoiding her for so long. And while Clarke’s happy that their conversation went the way it did, there’s something jarring about how easy it was.

So, she’s upstairs making her and Raven’s bed and unpacking her things, despite only being here for five days. Of course, Raven and Octavia don’t actually allow her the alone time she’s after, and follow her to the room soon after her departure.

Octavia helps her with the bed while Raven sits on the floor, leant back against the closet doors and presumably just making the most of not having to deal with juggling Bellamy and Anya’s presence at the same time.

“So how’d your talk with Lexa go?” Octavia asks, “I swear I saw you _laughing_.”

Clarke glances over at her friend, rolling her eyes at Octavia’s grin, “You know, before Christmas you were almost more pissed at Lexa than I was.”

“She’s making an effort, Clarke.”

Clarke sighs, shuffling the pillow in her hand into the pillowcase, “I know.” She says softly, “That’s why I spoke to her.”

“So what’d you talk about?”

“Nothing, really.” Clarke shrugs, tossing the pillowcase onto the bed, “We just agreed to not let things get in the way of the trip.”

“Huh.” Raven tilts her head, and Clarke avoids looking over at her friend, feeling her eyes searching for something.

Clarke ignores it, walking over to her bag in search of a jacket to throw over her hoody when they no doubt move outside to where Lexa’s lit the fire. She remembers as she’s pulling the garment from her bag that she brought Lexa’s jacket, and holds back a pained groan before placing it back in her bag in defeat.

Guess she’s freezing tonight.

Octavia and Raven pay no attention to the action, Octavia now turning the conversation onto Raven and thankfully saving Clarke from whatever their friend was planning on saying next.

“So, Clarke made nice with Lexa. You gonna say sorry to Anya?”

“Say sorry?” Raven frowns.

“Uh, _yeah_ , idiot.” Octavia drawls, “You’ve been ignoring her when she didn’t even _do_ anything. You’re lucky she’s even here making an effort. I would’ve given up by now.”

Raven’s face falls, her eyes moving to where she’s wringing her hands together anxiously, “You think she came here for me?”

Octavia snorts, “She didn’t come here for my brother.”

“I thought you didn’t want me with her.”

“I don’t care who you end up with, Ray.” Octavia says, softer now as she perches on the bed and looks at Raven, “I care that you hurt Bell, yeah. But you’ve tried to say sorry. You don’t deserve to just wallow forever because Bellamy’s stubborn.”

“Well he’s not gonna like it if I go back to Anya.”

“Probably not.” Octavia shrugs, “But maybe it’s not his place to be mad anymore.”

“You know what’s stupid?” Raven huffs, “I wasn’t even keeping it from him because of our history. I was just freaking out about the fact that I liked a girl; I didn’t want to tell people before I knew what the fuck was going on with me.” She says, “I just need him to actually give me a _chance_ to explain things to him.”

“I think he’s getting there.” Octavia says encouragingly, “I mean, he’s been a lot less of a dick lately. The fact that he actually kinda became friends with Lexa over Christmas might mean something.”

Clarke has trouble imagining Lexa and Bellamy in conversation, let alone as genuine friends.

She ignores the familiar feeling of jealousy that settles in the pit of her stomach at the thought. Because it doesn’t mean anything. She’s just used to being Lexa’s person when it comes to her group of friends.

Lexa’s allowed to get closer to other people.

“Well… I’m not doing anything with Anya until Bellamy and I are okay.” Raven says firmly.

Clarke would admire Raven’s determination, if her own situation didn’t make her aware of just how unlikely achieving that is.

* * *

 

As expected, when Clarke makes her way back downstairs the group have migrated to the outside area, where Lexa’s fire is now completely alight and keeping them warm. Conversation is loud with the friends all talking over each other, telling stories of their Christmas break and catching up on things they’ve missed.

Clarke stays at Wells’ side, her friend having sparked up an immediate friendship with Monty and Jasper. Lexa is at Bellamy’s side, in a surprisingly animated conversation that forces Clarke to battle away any slight level of annoyance she feels.

She notes further into the night that Lexa is purposefully keeping a distance from her, speaking to literally everyone _but_ Clarke.

Lexa’s not being rude about it at all, and it’s likely she is just trying to be respectful. But it still stings every time Lexa casually drifts out of a conversation the moment Clarke’s involved.

Unlike Lexa, Anya doesn’t seem to care at all about giving Raven space, and instead purposefully places herself in the same conversations as the girl, drifting near her at any opportunity. Raven’s attempts to remain cool provide an amusing distraction from Clarke’s own feeling of rejection concerning Lexa’s attitude.

When Clarke is a few drinks in, she’s less capable of stopping herself from glancing over to Lexa constantly, the blonde’s attempts to pretend she’s just absentmindedly scanning the group probably the least convincing act ever.

Wells must notice, because he nudges Clarke at one point, slinging his arm over her shoulder and pulling her into him, forcing her attention off of Lexa.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

The contact is innocent; more brotherly than anything. But when Clarke looks over at Lexa again she finds green eyes watching them curiously, before the hockey player quickly snaps her eyes away and returns to her conversation with Bellamy.

“Yeah.” Clarke says, looking back to Wells and offering him a small smile, “I’m fine.”

Based on Wells’ expression, he doesn’t believe it.

“So,” Murphy starts, demanding the group’s attention with a too-loud drunken slur, “What’s the actual plan for the trip, Blakes?” he asks, “Or are we stuck just talking to each other to five days?”

That gets Bellamy’s attention away from Lexa, forcing Lexa into the same conversation as Clarke by default, and Clarke can’t help the small satisfaction she feels.

“Feel free to go home anytime you get bored.” Octavia drawls, scowling at Murphy.

Bellamy grins, “Zip lining tomorrow.” He declares, “And if you guys are into it we can go up the mountain for some skiing at some point. We’re going to a party for New Years.”

“That’s more like it.” Murphy says, and he slings his arm over Jasper’s shoulder jovially, “What’s say we find ourselves some midnight kisses, Jordan?”

Jasper, who seems positively thrilled at the thought of meeting new girls, nods eagerly and takes an overly-eager swig of his beer, accidentally spilling some of the drink over himself and Murphy along the way.

Murphy scowls at the beer that spills onto him, promptly pushing Jasper away from him, and the look he trains on Bellamy immediately is telling enough that he’s about to say _something_ insulting.

Honestly, Clarke has no idea why Bellamy continues to keep the guy’s company. She’s certain Murphy came out of the womb being a dick to other people. And when he’s a few drinks in, he manages to get even nastier.

“What about you, Bell?” Murphy challenges, “Ready to give up the virgin in love act yet?”

Bellamy’s eyes narrow, but he remains surprisingly calm, shrugging off the comment with a growled out order for his friend to shut-up before he goes to return to conversation with Lexa.

Murphy just laughs, not ready to give it up, “Look, I’m just sayin’,” he shrugs, “It’s time to quit acting like a little bitch and have some fun again.”

Raven looks impossibly uncomfortable with the conversation, eyes trained on the fire as she no doubt silently prays for someone to bring up something else.

“Quit being an ass, Murphy.” Clarke drawls, “It’s not Bell’s fault you can’t get a girl to look your way without him convincing them you’re an okay guy first.”

Murphy scoffs, “Don’t get me started on _you_ , Princess. You’ve been just as much of a wet blanket as him, lately.” He smirks, “Hey, maybe you two should hook-up. You’d be the perfect, miserable match.”

Bellamy is up and out of his seat then, not paying Murphy a second glance as he goes to move back inside. No one goes to stop him, knowing this is probably the better of the options for how he could respond to his friend’s jabs.

Murphy laughs in disbelief, “Oh, come on. It was a _joke!”_ he calls after him, shaking his head as Bellamy closes the porch door behind him.

When he turns his attention back to the group and finds numerous glares being sent his way, he just shrugs, swigging back his beer.

Raven follows Bellamy inside moments later, Murphy watching her go with a scowl.

“Do you ever get tired of being an absolute ass?” Clarke spits.

Murphy shrugs, “Someone’s gotta do it.”

It’s almost comical how Murphy’s eyes widen when Lincoln suddenly gets up from his seat and approaches him, looming over the scrawny boy with a firm stare.

(Based on the murderous look on Octavia, Clarke guesses Lincoln’s decided to take action before his girlfriend makes them all witnesses to Murphy’s murder)

Murphy doesn’t say anything when Lincoln takes the beer from his hand, and Lincoln eyes him for a few intimidating seconds before he turns, tosses the beer in the bin and returns to his place next to Octavia.

Murphy has the sense not to get another drink after that, and he begrudgingly shrinks in his seat, uncharacteristically quiet as the group move into a new conversation.

(Clarke takes note to employ Lincoln’s help the next time anyone pisses her off.)

* * *

 

As the night goes on, Lexa continues to be painfully indifferent to Clarke’s general presence, and Clarke spends her time attempting to ignore the undeserving annoyance she feels over it and instead focuses on making the most of Wells’ company.

Raven and Bellamy are missing for a while, Clarke unable to help but glance over at Anya every now and then, who sits anxiously at Lexa’s side while her friend looks slightly annoyed by her unease.

Eventually, Raven returns without Bellamy in tow, and upon the relieved expression on her face Clarke decides to take her own leave and seek out Bellamy.

She finds him in the kitchen, sat up on the counter with a beer in hand and his brow furrowed, not noticing Clarke entering the space.

“Whatcha doing?”

Bellamy’s head snaps up at Clarke’s voice, the boy letting out a humorless laugh and running a hand through dark locks, “Just taking a timeout.” He says, voice gruff.

“I saw Raven follow you in here.” Clarke starts hesitantly, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Bellamy shrugs, “It’s fine.”

Clarke nods, retrieving a beer from the fridge before moving to join Bellamy up on the counter. She holds the bottle out in silent request, and Bellamy uncaps it for her, offering her a smile as he hands it back over and lets out a sigh.

“We- uh… we made up. Kinda.” He says then, eyes cast to his own beer, “As much of an ass he is, Murphy’s kinda right.” He says, “I need to get over it.”

“Oh, god.” Clarke groans, “Please don’t tell _Murphy_ that.”

Bellamy chuckles, “Never.”

“That’s good, though. If you really think you’re ready.” Clarke smiles, “You think you can be friends?”

“I’m gonna try.” Bellamy sighs, “I- uh…” he runs a hand through his hair, “I told her she shouldn’t stop dating Anya because of me.”

“Oh- wow.” Clarke pauses, “That’s… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

Clarke’s surprised Bellamy made the move alone, without prompting of anyone else.

While Raven has every right to be with Anya, that doesn’t mean it’s any easier for Bellamy to accept it, let alone give his blessing.

“I mean… I get why she didn’t tell me about them, I guess. She’s had her own shit to deal with outside of me.” Bellamy says, “The fact that she ended things with Anya because of my reaction… I don’t wanna be the guy that guilt’s someone like that.” he shrugs, “I care about her; I don’t _actually_ want her out of my life. So I guess the best thing for me to do is just let it go and start moving on.”

Clarke smiles softly, wrapping an arm around Bellamy in half a hug, “You’re a good guy, Bell.”

Bellamy chuckles, “Sure I am, Princess.” He murmurs, sounding like he doesn’t quite believe it, “What about you?”

Clarke frowns at the pointed look Bellamy’s giving her, “What?”

“You think I didn’t notice the shitty stares you’ve been sending me all night?” Bellamy laughs, “So, Princess, was that for Raven? Or someone else?”

Of course, he’s already decided it’s not about Raven.

Clarke rolls her eyes, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She deflects, “How much have you drank?”

Bellamy grins, “Haven’t you been sleeping with Lexa all year?” he teases, “Surely you’d know by now that she’s a lesbian.”

“Oh my god,” Clarke groans, “Shut up.”

“I’m just sayin’,” Bellamy shrugs, taking a swig of his beer, “Dunno why you’ve been looking all jealous. I’m not exactly her type.”

“I’m not jealous of anything.”

“Uh huh.” Bellamy hums, “Sure.” He nudges Clarke lightly, “You know, she told me what happened between you guys.”

“Oh, _wow_.” Clarke snorts, “So you guys are like, _BFF’s_ now?”

Her tone drips with mockery, Clarke unable to hold back the spitefulness.

Bellamy laughs, “Calm down, Princess. We just bonded over our girl problems.”

“How poetic.”

“I’m just offended you never told me to begin with.” Bellamy declares, a faux expression of hurt on his face, “I thought _we_ were BFF’s.”

Clarke looks up, unable to help the smile that tugs at her lips at Bellamy’s pout, “I just didn’t want to keep repeating it to people.” She explains, feeling slightly guilty for not sharing with the boy, seeing as she’s one of the few privy to his own issues.

“I get it.” Bellamy shrugs, “I’m sorry, as well.” He says, offering Clarke a sympathetic smile, “Sounds like it was rough.”

“I guess.” Clarke murmurs.

“You think you’ll move past it?”

Clarke shrugs, “I don’t know.” She says, “I guess I’m just seeing what happens.”

“You still like her.”

“That doesn’t mean I trust her.”

“I know.” Bellamy nods, “But it’s gotta count for something, right?”

“She’s been pretty focused on not spending any time with me here so far.”

Clarke _knows_ it’s stupid to be upset by it. She wanted space, after all. Lexa is just giving her that.

But something about having her happily avoid Clarke while Anya is on a blatant mission to win Raven back has gotten to her.

“The girl’s crazy about you, Clarke.” Bellamy laughs.

(Clarke scowls at how he says it like Clarke’s worries are completely ridiculous.)

“But Lexa’s not the type to chase you if she thinks you don’t want to be chased.” He hops off the kitchen counter, looking to Clarke and shrugging, “If you still like her, maybe you need to give her a sign that it’s not a lost cause between you guys.”

“I’m not sure how much I like this new friendship between you two.” Clarke grumbles.

Bellamy laughs, holding out his hand and helping Clarke jump off the kitchen counter, “Don’t worry, Princess.” He grins, “I still have your back.”

* * *

 

When they return to the group outside, Raven and Anya aren’t there, and Clarke gives Bellamy’s hand a squeeze in comfort before returning to Wells’ side, who is notably more drunk than he was when she had left him.

Presumably this is due to the drinking game Octavia has propelled the group of friends into. Clarke doesn’t last long before exhaustion gets the better of her and she decides to call it a night, promising Octavia she’ll commit to the party the following night.

(The fact that Lexa’s no longer there as well might have factored into Clarke’s willingness to give up on the night altogether)

She doesn’t bother knocking when she reaches her and Raven’s room, and when she opens the door she immediately regrets that decision.

It’s not like the last time she interrupted Anya and Raven. At least _this time_ they’re wearing clothes.

Although as she’s faced with a crying Anya and a tearful Raven, Clarke’s not actually sure she prefers this circumstance.

Clarke’s always found Anya to be more intimidating than Lexa (probably because she’s been in less close-quarters with Lexa’s best friend), and witnessing Anya crying feels like an ultimate breach of the girl’s comfort zone.

Anya’s ducking her head into her arms the moment she sees Clarke, and Raven jumps off the bed immediately to rush to the door. She practically barrels into Clarke as she forces her friend back out into the hall and closes the door behind her, turning to look at Clarke with an anxious expression.

“I’m so sorry.” Clarke blurts, wide-eyed, “I didn’t know you guys were in there-”

“It’s fine.” Raven cuts her off, shaking her head, “We’re just talking.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Raven offers Clarke a reassuring smile, “It’s fine. It’s just- you know… emotions.”

“Is _Anya_ okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” Raven nods, “I- um… I just-” she huffs, looking back to the door briefly and running a hand through her hair, “Do you think she could switch rooms with you? I don’t know how long we’re gonna be talking.”

“Yeah, sure.” Clarke answers immediately, eager to just get away from the situation so Raven can get back to Anya, “Can I have my bag?”

Raven disappears into the room and returns soon after with Clarke’s things in tow and a barrage of thank you’s, and says a swift goodbye before she leaves Clarke out in the hallway.

Clarke doesn’t realize what switching rooms with Anya actually means until she’s walking into the girl’s bedroom, dumping her stuff on the floor, and Lexa’s walking in.

Lexa pauses in the doorway when she sees Clarke, wearing a frown and looking around as though she’s sure she’s walked into the wrong room.

Clarke almost bolts back to her and Raven’s room immediately. And she’d be kicking Anya out without the bat of an eyelid if it was just about Raven getting laid tonight. But she remains planted in her place, not sure she has it in her to be the one to get in the way of Raven finally communicating with Anya for the first time in a month.

(Clarke also never wants to witness Anya crying ever again – she’s certain the girl’s already plotting her death as a result of damage control to her image)

“Clarke…?” Lexa starts awkwardly, walking into the room.

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

Lexa lets out a soft laugh, confusion written on her face, “What does it look like?”

“I’m not here for some booty call or something.” Clarke elaborates, although it’s clear by the redness on Lexa’s face that the girl hadn’t even jumped to that assumption yet, “Anya’s staying in my room with Raven.”

“Oh…” Lexa’s frown deepens, “Are they okay?”

“Yeah.” Clarke nods firmly, “They’re talking it through.”

“Cool.” Lexa’s eyes fall to Clarke’s bag, “So… that means you’re in this room now?”

Clarke shifts in her place, shrugging, “I guess.”

“I can find somewhere else to sleep.” Lexa offers, “If you’re not comfortable.”

“No,” Clarke says quietly, “It’s fine.”

She’s not about to kick Lexa out of her own room.

Clarke would offer to go elsewhere too, if the only other option wasn’t the rock-hard couches downstairs or the floor of Bellamy’s bedroom with the company of four drunk guys.

(And after having Lexa act so indifferent towards her today, a part of Clarke might be a _bit_ happy at the fact that Lexa has no way to avoid her here)

She lets out an awkward laugh, “I mean it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before, right?”

Lexa pauses, “Uh… right.” She mumbles, “Yeah, I guess.”

They share stiff smiles before Clarke dismisses herself to the privacy of the bathroom to change.

When she comes back, Lexa is sat at the end of the bed, eyes cast to her phone and glancing up when Clarke walks back in.

Clarke silently moves to her bag on the floor, crouching down to stuff her clothes inside.

Lexa must catch the familiar pattern of her bomber jacket lying amongst the clothing, and Clarke’s doesn’t realize her mistake until Lexa is already standing behind her to confirm what she’s seen.

“Is that my jacket?”

Clarke freezes, then standing up quickly to face Lexa, “No.” she says firmly, intentionally blocking her bag now.

Lexa grins, peering over Clarke’s shoulder, “That’s definitely my jacket.”

Clarke waits a moment, attempting to stare Lexa down in hopes the girl will drop it before she lets out a huff of defeat, “Okay, yeah. It’s your jacket.” She grumbles, “It’s warm, okay?”

“I’m aware.”

“I didn’t _know_ you’d be here.” Clarke continues, “If I’d known-”

“You would have worn it… in secret?” Lexa laughs at Clarke’s glare, “Sorry, it’s just funny.”

“It doesn’t _mean_ anything.” Clarke blurts, and she immediately feels guilty at the way Lexa’s face falls at the claim.

“Yeah.” Lexa nods, her smile less genuine now, “I know.” She says, “I’m just teasing.”

“… right.” Clarke murmurs, “You can have it back?”

She turns around, swiping up the jacket and holding it out to Lexa, but the hockey player just looks at it before meeting Clarke’s gaze again.

“It’s fine.” She shrugs, “You can hang onto it.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Did you bring any _other_ practical jackets here?”

“… Not really.”

Clarke hadn’t exactly been counting on being around anyone who knew the jacket she was wearing was anyone else’s but her own.

“Then keep it.” Lexa smiles softly, “You can give it back to me some other time.”

Clarke looks down at the jacket, deciding not to fight Lexa on it, “… thanks.”

Lexa hums out a response, turning to face the bed while Clarke places the jacket back into her bag.

“So- um… do you have a side you prefer?” Lexa asks, clearly just stalling as she stares at the bed as though it’s a fucking wedding ring.

Clarke rolls her eyes, walking over to the closest side, “Don’t make it awkward, Lexa.” She sighs.

“Right. Sorry.”

Clarke climbs under the covers, turning on the bedside lamp as Lexa switches off the main light before taking her place on the other side of the bed. Despite her best efforts to be nonchalant about their situation, the moment Lexa is sliding in next to her the reality of their proximity hits her, and she tries her best to keep her breaths even as she feels Lexa’s leg accidentally brush against hers.

Lexa’s leg snaps back and she offers Clarke an apologetic smile, moving further over to her side of the bed.

“I’ll keep my space.” she promises Clarke, “Just… shove me if I get too close or something.”

Clarke’s not so certain she’d have the willpower to push Lexa away if she _did_ get close, and she swallows hard before leaning over to switch off the lamp and settle on her side so her back faces Lexa.

She can feel Lexa’s eyes on her, but then the girl’s weight shifts.

“Goodnight, Clarke.” Lexa says into the darkness, her voice sounding distant, the girl presumably also having rolled over to face away from Clarke.

Clarke lets out a heavy breath, “Night, Lexa.”

The large amount of space between their bodies feels cold, and the silence between them as neither falls asleep feels louder than anything, and Clarke wonders what Lexa would do if she were to shift closer.

(It’s probably cold enough here to use the need for warmth as an excuse)

Clarke rolls over to face Lexa, blue eyes staring at the girl’s back and the slivers of her tattoos that peak out of her tank top. And as she watches Lexa’s breaths even out, and she fights the urge to scoot closer and seek the familiar comfort of her arms, Clarke realizes she’s not quite ready to let this girl go.

* * *

 

When Clarke wakes up the next morning, Lexa isn’t beside her, and she feels the familiar tug of disappointment in her stomach over the sight of the empty space next to her.

She eventually manages to drag herself out of the warmth of the comforter and prepare herself for the day ahead, and when she gets changed, she pauses when she sees Lexa’s jacket again, unsure whether it would be too much to wear it while the girl is around.

While no one else knows it’s Lexa’s jacket, _Lexa_ does. And despite what Lexa said the night before, by wearing it Clarke is making _some_ type of statement, surely.

She deliberates over it for a few moments before she swipes up the garment and pulls it on, realizing that it’s pretty much the exact kind of sign she _wants_ to give Lexa, anyway. Even if she hasn’t quite gotten to the part where she’s ready to vocally admit that yet.  

When she moves downstairs and into the kitchen, it’s apparent she’s one of the first awake, and she finds Lexa sitting at the island, focused on a book in front of her.

Clarke considers turning around and going back upstairs until more people wake up, not entirely sure how to approach Lexa after her revelation the night before. Seriously, how does she tell Lexa she wants her to try for her without coming off like a total self-absorbed ass? But she decides to swallow her nerves and move inside,

“Morning.” she greets quietly as she shuffles into the room.

Lexa looks up, and Clarke doesn’t fail to catch the smile that tugs at the girl’s lips when her eyes fall on Clarke’s attire.

She doesn’t say anything about it, though, and her attention turns back to her book, “Good morning, Clarke.”

“When- uh… when did you wake up?” Clarke asks, setting her sights on the coffee maker and making a bee-line for the machine.

“A couple of hours ago.” Lexa says.

Clarke can feel Lexa watching her as she wanders about the kitchen, and as she waits for the coffee to brew she turns to rest back against the island, meeting the girl’s gaze.

Lexa doesn’t look away like she’d expected, instead just continuing to watch Clarke with that frustratingly unreadable expression.

“I think we’re supposed to be going zip-lining today.” Clarke starts, eager to push through the tense atmosphere between them.

“Yeah.” Lexa smiles half-heartedly, “Bellamy said.”

Clarke nods, fingers tapping against the island awkwardly, “It should be fun.”

“I guess.”

Clarke is the one to break their eye contact, letting out a shaky breath and turning back to the coffee machine, “Would- uh,” she peers over her shoulder briefly, “Do you want one?”

“Sure.”

Clarke sends her a soft smile, retrieving two mugs.

She can still feel Lexa watching her as she goes to pour the coffee.

“I ended things with Costia.”

Clarke almost pours the coffee over the counter, taking a moment to compose herself before resuming. Her throat is already strip dry, and she doesn’t look back at Lexa, making the most of her time to pour the coffee.

When she does turn around, she finds Lexa watching her closely, blatantly attempting to gauge her reaction.

Clarke places Lexa’s coffee in front of the girl, eyes falling to her own mug and watching the steam drift up as she settles on the stool next to her, “… are you okay?”

Lexa shrugs, “I should have done it a long time ago.” She admits, “It’s actually… it feels good.” She decides, letting out a soft sigh, “For the first time in a while I feel like I’m sure of where I’m at and what I want.”

When she meets Lexa’s eyes Clarke can feel the weight of her words, and when Lexa’s gaze darts to her coffee self-consciously Clarke reaches out to settle her hand on the girl’s forearm, coaxing her attention back onto her.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She admits softly.

The soft smile that traces Lexa’s lips in response makes Clarke’s chest feel tight, and her hand almost feels like it’s on fire from where it’s touches Lexa’s skin. She can see the reluctant hope that swims in Lexa’s eyes and Clarke remembers Bellamy’s words from the night before.

_Just give her a sign._

Lexa looks like she’s about to say something, but Clarke never gets to find out what that is as Wells drowsily walks into the kitchen.

Clarke’s surprised when Lexa is the one to end their contact, moving her arm away from Clarke’s hand and suddenly looking extremely interested in the artwork that litters the walls as Wells mumbles out a ‘good ‘morning’ and immediately goes to pour his own coffee.

Oblivious to what he’s intruded upon, Wells turns back to them with a pleasant smile, sipping on his coffee eagerly as rests back against the counter and starts filling them in on the events they missed out on after going to bed.

Lexa dismisses herself soon after, looking distant as ever as she barely even glances Clarke’s way again and heads upstairs.

* * *

 

Clarke doesn’t get an opportunity to talk to Lexa alone again after that, as more and more of the group of friends wake up. As soon as everyone’s awake, Octavia has them piling into cars to head to the zipline course.

Clarke tries to hide her disappointment when Lexa chooses to ride in a different car to her, which is a blatant attempt at avoidance, seeing as both Lincoln and Anya are in the same car as the blonde.

She finds a distraction in Raven and Anya, who are wearing bright smiles and acting like schoolchildren as they barely manage to look away from one another for a matter of seconds. Clarke counts her blessings that in her joy, Anya seems to have forgotten Clarke having been witness to her crying the night before, and she decides not to bring up to incident.

When Raven slides into the backseat of the car next to Clarke, her attention leaves Anya for the first time that morning, looking guilty as ever.

“I’m _so_ sorry.” She blurts immediately, “I swear- I didn’t realize I was making you sleep with Lexa-”

“You slept with Lexa?!”

Clarke rolls her eyes at Octavia’s outburst, “We slept in the same bed.” she drawls, Octavia looking visibly disappointed by the downgrade of drama and turning back around in the passenger seat, Lincoln laughing at her as he puts the car into drive.

“And it’s fine.” Clarke continues, shrugging and looking to Anya for a moment, “At least you guys figured things out.”

Clarke might be tripping from Monty and Jasper’s second-hand smoke, but she swears Anya actually _smiles_ at her.

“Was it okay?” Raven asks, “Did anything happen?”

“Nothing happened.”  Clarke shrugs, “We just slept.”

Clarke would elaborate on her feelings over the situation if it were just her, Raven and Octavia in the car; but having Lexa’s two best friends here has her slightly less ready to divulge any details. So she decides to keep it simple.

“You can have our room back tonight.” Raven promises, “You don’t have to stay there.”

“No, it’s fine.” Clarke says, cheeks reddening at the surprised arch to Anya’s eyebrow in response, “I just mean- you guys probably wanna stay together now.” She explains, trying her best to look like she couldn’t care less.

“We don’t _have_ to.” Raven argues, “Seriously, I’m not gonna make you stay with Lexa.”

“Raven, it’s fine.” Clarke pushes, maybe a bit too firmly for someone who doesn’t care, “Lexa and I are fine. It’s not like we’re fighting.”

Raven grimaces, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Clarke can feel Anya watching her closely, and something about her gaze makes Clarke feel uncomfortable, as though the girl can see right through her reasoning.

(Which, she probably can. But Clarke’s not about to admit she really just wants to keep sharing the same bed as Lexa)

Thankfully, Raven drops it as Octavia decides her and Anya’s new developments in their relationship is more interesting, and Clarke’s left avoiding Anya’s curious looks for the rest of the ride.

* * *

 

When they get to the zipline course, the group are taken through their safety briefing before they follow their guide up a painful amount of steps to the beginning of the course.

The platform they start at is breathtaking, and as expected Octavia is the first to put her hand up to go, launching off the platform and looking like sending herself over a forest from a ridiculous height is the least intimidating thing in the world.

As Lincoln goes after his girlfriend, Clarke’s attention moves to Lexa, noting the way the girl’s hands anxiously wring together and her chest rises and falls heavily and she looks at the view of the forest.

Moving to the back of the group, Clarke comes to stand at Lexa’s side, nudging her lightly.

“Are you okay?”

Lexa’s eyes snap to Clarke’s, filled with undeniable fear, “Yeah. Fine.” She mumbles out nervously, “I’m fine.” She shifts, peering over the edge of the platform briefly and clearly regretting it immediately, snapping her eyes back to Clarke, “It’s just… _really_ high.”

A smile tugs at Clarke’s lips, “Are you scared?”

“What? No.” Lexa shakes her head firmly.

Clarke laughs, “Yeah you are.” She teases, “You’re afraid of heights.”

“I’m not _afraid_ I just- it’s a stupid idea.” Lexa splutters, “There’s a reason humans weren’t born with wings, _Clarke_.” She glares at the girl, only making Clarke’s smile wider.

“And here I thought Girl Scouts were fearless.”

The scowl Lexa sends her at the mockery would even make Murphy shut up, but Clarke’s can tells it’s just an attempt to mask Lexa’s own discomfort, and the intimidation is lost on her.

“You don’t have to do it.” She says, feeling bad for teasing, “We can just do something else.”

“I’m not scared.” Lexa persists, “And we’re already up here.” She says, huffing, “I mean- I’ll _do_ it. It’s just…” she pulls at her harness anxiously, “… stupid.”

Clarke grins at the blatant lie, but she decides to let Lexa have it, shrugging and looking back to where Bellamy has now taken off.

They watch in silence as the group slowly departs, Lexa growing more anxious by the second. No one else notices Lexa’s complete lack of excitement, Lexa just shrinking away and remaining quiet as she watches everyone go.

Clarke purposefully lingers back until they’re the last left, and when it comes time for Lexa to step up and be prepped, Clarke catches her hand.

Lexa looks back at her with worried green eyes, and Clarke squeezes her hand reassuringly, offering her a smile, “I’ll be right behind you, okay?”

Lexa glances down at their hands, then back to Clarke, nodding and swallowing hard before she turns back to their guide.

It’s amusing, seeing Lexa so oddly out of her element. Clarke never would have guessed there was a physical element out there that actually scared the girl. When it comes to that area, she just assumed Lexa generally finds everything that comes her way easy.

She makes sure to hide her amusement once they’re out on the course, though, knowing Lexa will just get embarrassed and her chances of actually enjoying the day are slim.

Clarke makes sure to keep speaking to Lexa throughout every stage they’re near each other, helping to take her mind off of the heights as they navigate across tree-tops. At one point Anya apparently realizes her friend is struggling, the group moving along an unsteady bridge, and she yells back teasing remarks that have Lexa cussing her out with words that Clarke has never even heard come out of the girl’s mouth before.

Clarke has to order Raven to keep Anya ahead of them before Lexa finds a way to rig Anya’s holster and send her friend falling straight to the ground, but at least Anya’s teasing does manage to force Lexa to push forward at a faster pace out of fear of damage to her pride.

Most of their day is spent up there, and while Lexa’s nerves don’t completely go away, Clarke does notice her actually beginning to enjoy the activity.

Something about being up so high, in a setting so abnormal to their usual environment, makes their dynamic feel lighter. Clarke doesn’t worry if they’re talking too much or too little, she doesn’t worry about whether or not she’s ready to let Lexa in again, and she doesn’t think about how terrifying it is how much of a hold Lexa has over her. For that time, it’s just her and Lexa, without everything else; and it’s easy.

It’s probably bad, but the fact that Lexa genuinely leans on her for reassurance throughout the course makes Clarke’s stomach do somersaults. Clarke’s never wanted to be there for someone so much as she does with Lexa, and the knowledge that she’s one of the few people that Lexa actually trusts to let her see this softer side of her makes Clarke her think that they really could work it out if they just _tried_ it.

Of course, once they’re back on the ground, reality sets back in and Lexa is distancing herself from Clarke all over again, and Clarke almost screams in frustration.

Because seriously, how’s she supposed to ‘send Lexa signs’ if the girl won’t willingly spend a second of her time with her?

Clarke considers asking Bellamy when exactly he had the discussion with Lexa about her apparently being ‘crazy about her’, because it sure doesn’t seem like Lexa wants a thing to do with her right now.

Clarke doesn’t ask Bellamy, though, more out of self-preservation than anything else, and as night falls the group settle in for copious amounts of alcohol and dinner courtesy of Bellamy and Raven.

It’s burgers, and as though the past month didn’t even happen, Bellamy and Raven are back to bickering incessantly with one another throughout the whole grilling process.

“Who knew one day I’d be _glad_ to be hearing this argument.” Octavia comments, as the rest of the friends wait hungrily for their food, and Clarke can’t help but murmur an agreement, glad to see some normalcy finally returning.

The night is less eventful than the previous one, which Clarke considers a blessing. But while everyone else’s issues seem to be working out, she’s still stuck in her own.

When the night comes to an end, she and Lexa go to bed with the same awkwardness hanging over their heads as the night before, and Clarke’s not sure how long she lies in bed, unable to sleep thanks to incessant thoughts about the girl next to her.

Her eyes trace Lexa’s tattoos, as though she hasn’t spent hours of her life already exploring them, and she has to grip her pillow tight to stop her hands from reaching over to touch them.

Lexa’s not asleep either; the girl’s breaths are too uneven and her body is too stiff, and Clarke wonders if Lexa can feel her eyes on her.

“Lexa?” she murmurs out into the darkness.

There’s no answer at first, but the way Lexa stiffens immediately tells Clarke she’s definitely awake, and eventually she sees the girl’s body deflate with a heavy breath.

“Yeah?”

Lexa doesn’t turn over to face her, and Clarke swallows, throat feeling dry, “I’m sorry for what happened with Niylah.”

It’s guilt that Clarke’s been carrying ever since she found out about what happened between Lexa and Costia, and finally broaching the subject feels like she’s just opened a floodgate.

“If I’d known what happened with her and Costia,” she continues, “I never would’ve-”

“It’s fine.”

Clarke catches the edge to Lexa’s tone and knows she’s caught a nerve.

“It wasn’t fair.” Clarke continues, eyes widening at how close they are when Lexa rolls over to face her.

Lexa notices, too, and promptly shifts back so there’s some more space between them.

“Like you said, you don’t owe me anything.” She says softly, “If you like Niylah-”

“I don’t.”

Lexa eyes her, and then lets out a shaky breath, “Okay.”

Clarke can’t manage to break Lexa’s gaze, and the unsure expression on Lexa’s face makes her heart ache with a longing to just tell her that she can’t even imagine wanting anyone else but the girl opposite her.

But the reminder of how quickly Lexa’s already managed to crush her keeps the words from falling from Clarke’s lips.

“It wasn’t like that.” Clarke continues weakly instead, “I was just mad at you and I-” she licks her lips, sighing, “I guess I just wanted to make you feel the way I felt.”

Lexa is watching Clarke closely, and she eventually nods, “It’s okay.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Lexa nods.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

It clearly takes Lexa by surprise, and she shrugs, “I guess you could call it that.” she says, “I’ve just been trying to give you space.”

“Why?”

“Honestly?” Lexa chuckles uncomfortably, “I didn’t think you _wanted_ me around.”

“Well… I do.”

Lexa’s eyes trace Clarke’s features, and she doesn’t say anything for a while.

“I told you where I stood, Clarke.” She says then, “I don’t know what else to do.”

Her voice is soft. Fragile.

And Clarke can’t help but shift closer, needing to just be _closer_ to her.

Wanting Lexa to just _get_ it.

To understand what she wants without having to risk vocalizing it and making everything that much more real.

Lexa is watching her like she’s scared that if she looks away, Clarke will disappear. And as Clarke moves closer again, their legs brushing together lightly and faces so close that Clarke can smell the minty toothpaste on Lexa’s breath, Lexa doesn’t move away.

“Clarke…” Lexa murmurs out unsurely, her eyes glancing down to Clarke’s lips briefly.

Clarke’s stomach is in knots, and her body burns with an ache for more contact, to just close that distance between them and be done with it.

“Yeah?” she whispers back, breath mingling with Lexa’s.

Lexa swallows hard, and Clarke sees her lips tremble slightly as she asks, “What are you doing?”

And really, Clarke would laugh at the question if she weren’t caught up in how much she’s missed having Lexa near. How much she wants Lexa in every way the girl will allow her to have her.

Clarke’s licks her lips, and she lets out an unsteady breath, her hand coming to rest on Lexa’s cheek softly as she shifts that little bit closer, her forehead resting against Lexa’s.

“Giving you a sign.”

And then she’s leaning in, and she’s closing the distance.

And she’s kissing Lexa.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn’t I tell you guys I’d deliver on the extra clexa after last chap?
> 
> Anyway, my cat died last week and I’ve been really down. As I’ve said before this year’s been rough for me and she was kinda a big support system which sounds dumb but that’s how it is. So I don’t know how quick I’ll be on the next update as I never know how my writing will be effected by my moods, but I’ll try to work on it and do my best!
> 
> But next chapter will be NYE and lots of things are happening! So look forward to it :) Clarke and Lexa still have a lot to work through, so they’re not in the clear yet. Thanks for all the lovely comments on last chapter! I hope you liked this one, lots of things happened and I’m nervous about posting it, but after lots of edits I’ve been told I need to stop worrying and just put it up for you guys. So hopefully it hasn’t disappointed!
> 
> Let me know what you though and thank you in advance for always leaving comments that make me smile :) See ya next time!


	14. Chapter 14

Clarke kisses  Lexa.

And she’s hit with the  endlessly painful battle between her heart and her head.

Her instinct to shrink away from the girl and protect herself nags at the back of her mind incessantly, screaming that this is a bad idea. That she can’t trust  Lexa  and she’s  undoubtedly  signing herself up to be hurt all over again.

But then  Lexa’s  hand is cupping her cheek and her lips are moving against Clarke’s, and the raw need that Clarke’s only ever felt with  Lexa  wins out.

She knows it’s a false sense of security, the way  Lexa  makes her feel. Lexa  kisses her like she’s the world and pulls her closer like Clarke’s the only thing she could ever want; and Clarke’s already been fooled by it before.

But the tremble of  Lexa’s lips against hers  and the feel of the girl’s shaky breaths mingling with her own  has her hoping, _wishing_   that this time, it’s  different.

The kiss is hesitant, and soft, and  Clarke can already feel it leading to something more, her hands having a mind of their own as they reach beneath the covers to the bottom of  Lexa’s  shirt.

But (in a move Clarke will be thankful for later), Lexa’s  hands catch hers before she can edge the garment up her body, and the other girl pulls back from the kiss with unsure green eyes looking back at Clarke.

“Sorry.” Clarke rasps, her forehead resting against  Lexa’s  as the girl’s hand comes to settle at the back of her neck once again.

“No.” Lexa  responds quickly, “Don’t be.”

Lexa’s  fingers scratch lightly at the back of Clarke’s neck, Clarke’s eyes closing briefly at the calming touch. When she opens them again, the intensity to  Lexa’s  gaze has her both wanting to kiss her again as well as flee the room completely.

The silence between them feels painfully loud, Clarke  unsure what to even say or do now that she’s just launched them into this territory that she’s still not completely sure she’s ready to enter again.

“I- um… I wasn’t expecting that.”  Lexa  says eventually.

“Sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”  Lexa  chuckles.

“I don’t really know what else to say.”  Clarke says weakly.

She lets out a heavy sigh, looking to  Lexa  for some kind of a hand in aiding the heavy atmosphere between them.

“What about Wells?”

_That_ does the trick, and Clarke lets out a  confused  laugh, “What  about  him?”

Lexa  frowns at Clarke’s response, pulling her head back to look at her better, “Aren’t you two…” she trails off suggestively, Clarke letting out a louder laugh when she catches onto the insinuation.

“Oh, _God_.” Clarke groans, pulling away from  Lexa  and rolling onto her back, shaking her head, “No, just… no. I’m not dating Wells.”

Seriously?  First Bellamy, now wells? Lexa  deserves an award for being so wrong  in  her assumptions when it comes to the relationships  in Clarke’s life.

“Really?”  Lexa  says it like she’s not fully buying it, and Clarke rolls her eyes, “You just seem really close…”

Clarke scoffs, “ _Yeah_ , growing up together will do that to you. I’ve known him since kindergarten.” She says, grinning  and looking back to  Lexa, “There’s nothing going on with us, Lexa.”

Lexa  licks  her lips, letting out a soft breath of relief, “… oh.”

Another chuckle finds it’s way out of Clarke’s mouth, Lexa’s  distance over the last few days making a lot more sense now, “Is that why you got all weird  when he walked into the kitchen yesterday?”

Lexa  shifts, clearly unhappy with the mockery in Clarke’s tone, “Well I didn’t want to get in the way if you   _were_ together.” She grumbles.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a political science major?” Clarke teases, “You’d think you’d be able to read human behavior a bit better.”

“You’re not exactly the   _easiest_ person to read, Clarke.”

“Says the girl  with the secret relationship.”

It leaves Clarke’s lips before she can think better of it, and her eyes widen in surprise when it does.

She hopes  Lexa  will just laugh it off, but of course  she  doesn’t.

Granted, that’s probably a good thing. Seeing as Clarke’s not sure she ever wants to be in a place where  Lexa  hurting her is the butt of some joke.

Lexa’s  mouth is parted slightly as the response hangs in the air between them, guilt now having completely wiped any trace of the content expression that had previously been on her face.

“I’m sorry.”  Clarke  winces, “I keep doing that-”

“No.”  Lexa  shakes her head, “It’s fine.” She says, “I deserve  it.”

“It’s just… it’s hard.” Clarke says, “I want to be okay with this and move on but I can’t just forget what happened.”

“I know.”  Lexa  nods, letting out a defeated sigh, “Do you… do  you  think you   _can_ move past it?”

“I don’t know.”

Lexa’s  expression falls, but she just nods again.

“I want to, though.” Clarke continues, “It’s why I kissed you.”

“So where does that leave us?”

Clarke watches  Lexa, eyes tracing over the girl’s hopeful expression, “Can we just deal with that tomorrow?” she asks quietly.

Lexa  smiles  softly, nodding  and glancing down to where she’s toying with the comforter anxiously, “I just… I want you to know that I’m serious about this. About   _us._ ”  She says, meeting Clarke’s eyes again, “I want to make things right.”

Clarke wants to believe her. So badly. And a part of her does. But it's going to take a lot more than a few convincing words before the memory of Lexa's betrayal stops looming over her  like a giant warning sign.

"If you hurt me again-"

"I won't." Conviction laces Lexa's tone, and she holds Clarke's gaze, "I know what I want, Clarke."

Clarke's eyes trace Lexa's features, searching for a sign of weakness or hesitance in her, but she comes up empty. She lets out a tired breath, "Okay."

Clarke is the one to break their eye contact, settling back down in the bed and rolling over onto her side, feeling Lexa's stare trained on her back.

She can feel Lexa shifting behind her, restless and no doubt just as far from sleep as Clarke is.

“Lexa?” she murmurs.

Lexa  pauses, “Yeah?”

Clarke sighs, looking over her shoulder at the girl. She reaches out, taking  Lexa’s hand, and she shifts back towards  Lexa  slightly before settling the girl’s arm around her waist.

Lexa  takes a moment, but then Clarke hears her let out a heavy breath, and she settles behind Clarke properly, warm body pressing up against Clarke’s back.

It feels natural, like they were made just to lie like this together. Even after everything that’s transpired between them, Clarke’s never lost that feeling of comfort when it comes to Lexa’s presence.

And as Clarke feels  Lexa  relax completely into their embrace, for the first time in a while she thinks that they might just be okay.

* * *

When Clarke wakes in the morning, Lexa’s still next to her, and Clarke can’t help the immense sense of relief she feels at the sight, having half-convinced herself that Lexa’s sincerity the night before had to be a ruse, and that Clarke couldn’t possibly be getting what she’s yearned for for the better part of year.

But it wasn’t, and Lexa’s sat back against the headboard of the bed, reading like it’s the most normal morning in the world. Clarke cuddles further into her comforter as she looks up at her, watching Lexa for a bit before making herself known.

“Morning.” She rasps out.

Green eyes move from the book and onto Clarke, a soft smile tracing Lexa’s lips, “Hey.”

“How long have you been up?”

Lexa places her book down in her lap, shrugging, “Not long.” She says, “I think a few people are awake, though.”

Clarke registers the muffled sounds of commotion downstairs and lets out a sigh, burying her face into her pillow, “Is it bad that I kinda don’t want to do anything at all today?”

A soft laugh falls from Lexa’s lips, “Well it’s a holiday.” She reasons, “You don’t _have_ to do anything.”

Clarke hums out an agreement, eyes looking up at Lexa as the girl’s fingers run over the spine of her book absentmindedly.

Part of Clarke wonders if the kiss even happened, or if she dreamt it. Lying here now, clear-headed, she’s not sure whether she wants it to be a dream or a reality.

She’s missed her. _So_ much. And still feeling that, still _missing_ Lexa, above all the anger and hurt that this exact girl has had her experiencing for the past month? That’s… well that’s just fucking terrifying. Because what happens if Lexa’s just playing her all over again?

This is why Clarke had been so much better settled with gripping to her anger. Because now that she’s not angry, she’s stuck with the painfully confusing battle between her urge to be around Lexa, and the distrust in the girl that the past month has so firmly imbedded within her.

She knows the kiss was probably a mistake.

Does she regret it? No.

But was it a mistake? Probably.

She wanted to give Lexa a sign. Something to tell the girl that Clarke _wants_ her to fight for her and prove that she can trust her again. But Clarke’s not quite sure she’s ready for the unspoken commitment she might have just made with that kiss.

It’s just hard, when everything inside of her is screaming to be close to Lexa, to take whatever she can when it comes to the girl. Yet she already _knows_ how the story ends, and she’s already felt how much it can hurt her.

“Lexa…”

Lexa looks to her, but whatever Clarke was going to say (she hadn’t even gotten that far yet), she doesn’t get an opportunity to say it, as they’re interrupted by the door swinging open and an overly excited Octavia bounding into the room.

“Happy New Year!” Octavia sings, and if she recognizes that she’s just walked in on something, she doesn’t give herself away. She practically buzzes with anticipation for the day ahead as she climbs onto the bed and sits right in the middle of the mattress, Clarke groaning and moving her legs to the side to avoid the girl sitting on them.

“Did we miss New Year’s Eve?” Clarke comments dryly, receiving an eye roll from Octavia.

“Happy New Year’s _Eve_ , then.” She drawls in response, sticking her tongue out at her friend, “Either way, it’s about time you guys get the fuck out of bed.”

Clarke pouts, “But it’s so warm here.”

Octavia looks to Lexa, frowning as her eyes fall on the book in her lap, “Jesus, how long have you two been awake?”

Lexa shrugs, and Clarke just huffs, pulling the comforter further up her body.

Now Octavia’s looking between them, head tilted curiously and causing Lexa to shift awkwardly under her stare.

“Has something happened?”

Both Clarke and Lexa’s eyes widen at the question, and Octavia grins.

“ _Oh,_ something has totally happened.” She teases, “So what? Have you guys been playing house up here? Waiting for the kids to bring breakfast in bed?”

“What do you want, O?” Clarke groans, kicking out at her friend lightly.

Octavia laughs, catching Clarke’s foot to stop her, “We’re going up the mountain to ski.” She says, “You wanna come?”

Clarke scoffs, “And play catch-up to you and Bell all day?” she says, “I’ll pass. I’d like to start the New Year without a broken bone.”

“Fair enough.” Octavia shrugs, looking to Lexa in question.

Lexa glances to Clarke, then to Octavia with a polite smile, “I think I’ll stay behind, too.”

“Really?” Octavia balks, “Miss College Sports Superstar wants to stay at home?”

Lexa laughs, “Skiing’s not my thing.”

Octavia rolls her eyes, letting out a dramatic groan, “ _Fine_.” She whines, climbing off of the bed, “But you guys better be ready to party by the time I get back.” She looks at them pointedly, “There will be punishment otherwise.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Clarke grins, waving her friend off as Octavia leaves. Once the door’s closed behind Octavia, Clarke turns her attention back to Lexa, arching an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You know you _can_ go with them.” Clarke says, “You don’t have to stick behind just because I am.”

“I’m not.” Lexa says, and then lets out a soft laugh at Clarke’s disbelieving expression, “What? Is it so bad that I want to stay here with you instead?”

“Don’t feel like you have to-”

“I don’t. I just want to.” Lexa rolls her eyes at Clarke, her hand falling on top of the blonde’s, “Just… give me the day, okay? Just spend the day with me.”

Lexa doesn’t say it, but Clarke understands the hidden message within the request.

_Don’t shut me out now._

“Please, Clarke.”

Clarke’s eyes fall to their hands, her fingers moving to link with Lexa’s as she then looks up to offer her a hesitant smile, “Okay.”

It’s probably the best idea for the day. Seeing as Clarke’s certain the moment she’s left alone with her thoughts, she’ll start doubting everything to do with Lexa all over again.

For now, she just wants to leave it be. She doesn’t want to overthink, and she doesn’t want to deal with the weight of what trusting Lexa with her heart again means. She just wants to be with Lexa for today. And see if they even _can_ work around each other anymore, or if that’s been left in the past.

Just the day, and then she can face reality tomorrow.

* * *

Lexa  and Clarke eventually make it downstairs, discovering that Jasper and Monty have passed on skiing as well, favoring their more preferred activity instead. Apparently, Anya and Raven have decided to do the same, but  the pair  don’t  make  an appearance outside of their room. Clarke can’t help the hint of jealousy that she feels over how easy they have fallen back together, wondering whether she’ll even reach that point with  Lexa  or if she’ll end up running away before they have that chance. Or  if, as Clarke fears, Lexa will mess  up again.

She and  Lexa  don’t hang around for long, determining that watching Jasper and Monty play cards while high isn’t exactly the most entertaining thing to spend their day doing, and the pair decide to take Raven’s car and head into town in search of  food.

The area buzzes with people rushing to prepare for their New Year’s Eve celebrations, and Clarke and  Lexa  soon find themselves at a  local burger  bar in hopes of eating something that isn’t either burnt or undercooked courtesy of Bellamy and Raven. 

Clarke swipes up some of the paper and  pencils  set aside for the kid diners  as they enter, shrugging at the amused expression Lexa  gives her before they find an empty  booth. They order their food immediately, hunger having crept up on them throughout their search for a place to settle, and Clarke lazily draws on the paper in front of her as they make stunted conversation, neither girl quite sure where they stand with one another after last night's kiss. It’s only after they’ve practically inhaled their burgers and are snacking on a basket of fries that they fall into  the easy  conversational territory Clarke’s used to with  Lexa.

“Anya and Raven seem happy.” she  says during a lull in topics,  “Do you know what’s going on there?”

That seems to make  Lexa  relax slightly, the other girl letting out a soft laugh, “I feel like you have a more open friendship with Raven than I do with Anya.” she says, “I know nothing.”

“Hmm.” Clarke glances up from her  drawing, “Do you find it weird?”

“What?”

“Just…” Clarke shrugs, “I mean, they met because of us. And now they’re together while we’re… well.” She  doesn’t f eel the need to  finish  the sentence, avoiding  Lexa’s  gaze and turning her attention back to her drawing.

She hears  Lexa  sigh, “I guess.”

A silence settles over them, Lexa  eventually leaning over the table slightly to look at the Clarke’s drawing.

“Are you drawing me?” she asks, and Clarke refuses to look up at her, cheeks reddening.

“Maybe.” Clarke mumbles.

Honestly, she’s drawn  Lexa  so many times that she’s practically learnt girl’s features by heart at this point. Having her here in front of her, Clarke hadn’t really given it a second thought as she began sketching her.

“I missed watching you draw.”

Clarke looks up to find  Lexa  wearing a soft smile, head resting in her hands, “I’m taking an anatomy class next semester.” She says, “So this is only going to get worse.”

“Does that mean I’ll be modeling for you?”

Clarke  bites  back an amused smile, “Well, you have a good body.” She  shrugs, “It’d be kinda dumb if I didn’t use the best resource available.”

Lexa  grins, “I guess I should pick up my workout schedule again, then.”

Clarke scoffs, “Like you ever gave it up.” She says dryly, and the way  Lexa’s  smile widens tells her she’s right in that assumption.

“Fair enough.”  Lexa  allows, peering around the bar curiously. Her eyes find something entertaining, apparently, as a smirk traces her lips.

“What?” Clarke frowns, following  Lexa’s  gaze. The are a few pool tables sitting further in the bar, and she lets out a laugh as  she looks back to  Lexa  to find the girl now looking at her, eyes swimming with amusement.

“Do I   _want_ to know what you’re thinking about?” Clarke drawls teasingly, leaning over her to retrieve a fry and pop it into her mouth.

She doesn't fail to notice Lexa's eyes stray to her chest as she leans over, and when Lexa realizes she's been caught in the act she lets out an awkward cough, shifting in her seat, "Just... thinking about the last time we played pool.” Lexa  says.

“ _Oh_.” Clarke grins, “So your head’s  really in the gutter right now.”

Lexa  laughs, shaking her head, “Not like   _that_ ,” she rolls her eyes at Clarke’s disbelieving expression, “Okay, fine. A little bit like that.”

"We can play, if you want." Clarke says, "There  won't be any body shots this time, though."

Lexa’s  smile widens, “But what will be the winning prize?"

"Since when did glory stop being enough?"

"Since the last time we played I got you topless."

"I don't know why you're assuming you'll win, anyway, with your track record." Clarke teases, "You realize  you had to do the shot off me because   _you_ missed a shot, right?"

Lexa scoffs, "I had the choice between sinking the ball and taking my own shirt off, or  missing and doing a shot off of you." She says, "I don't think Anya and Raven thought those stakes through."

"Are you saying you missed on purpose?”

"I mean, either way it worked out for me."

Clarke's eyes narrow, and she fights off a smile, "I guess we need a rematch, then. If you're that eager to be beat."

"You still haven't said what I get if I win."

Clarke shrugs nonchalantly, getting up from the booth, "I'll think on it."

* * *

Infuriatingly enough, Lexa wins their game of pool. And after the girl is finished gloating about it, Clarke doesn't have an opportunity to demand another game before some overly flirty men decide to challenge them to a game.

Clarke's surprised when Lexa doesn't immediately send them packing, instead deciding to let it play out. Considering her skills significantly drop when they start playing, it doesn't take Clarke long to figure out Lexa's hustle and jump in on the show.

While Lexa  feigns a childlike innocence and simplicity as she plays, Clarke instead decides to have fun with it. She brushes  against the men as she passes and laughs at their painfully mediocre jokes like they're comedic genius, and carries  out terrible shot after terrible shot as her rivals  wear confident smiles over the idea that they've actually succeeded in winning over the affections of the opposite sex.

Lexa watches the flirty act with thinly veiled disapproval the whole time, and Clarke struggles not to outright laugh at the men when one of them attempts to flirt with Lexa and only gets radio silence and a harsh glare in response. When they reach  their second game, coaxing the men into placing bets this time, Lexa doesn't even spare a second in sinking every ball she can manage.

The game is over significantly faster than anticipated, with Lexa looking  increasingly irritated by their company with each moment that passes. Once they've won, Lexa happily collects their bounty and sends the men, who are visibly annoyed over being played so easily, off with indifference.

It’s fun, and Clarke realizes this is the first real, genuine time she’s spent with Lexa since things fell apart between them. They work well together, as a duo, which is something that Clarke’s known all too long and used to be a key player in her endless frustration over Lexa’s refusal to commit. But now, knowing Lexa’s actually open to the idea of exploring just where they could go with it, the knowledge doesn’t hurt like it used to, instead making Clarke’s buzz with anticipation for what could be.

They don’t hang around the bar long after that, eventually realizing they’re well into the afternoon and deciding they should start the drive back to the cabin before they get hunted down by Octavia.

“So,” Lexa starts as they walk across the parking lot, unlocking their car up ahead as they approach, “Was the flirting really necessary?”

Clarke laughs, shrugging, “I’d say so.” She smiles smugly at Lexa, “We _did_ just win cash for drinks tonight.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s due to your flirting.” Lexa drawls, “They were already under my thumb before you started with the blonde bombshell act.”

Clarke sticks her tongue out at Lexa as she moves to the passenger side of the car, catching a glimpse of the girl’s responding eye roll before she moves inside. Lexa follows, and Clarke grins at the almost _pout_ on her lips as she sits in the driver’s seat.

"It's fun." Clarke shrugs, training a pointed look on Lexa, "What? Jealous I wasn’t flirting with you instead?”

Lexa scoffs, "No." she says defensively, "Why would I be? At the end of the day, they’re not kissing you at midnight."

“And you are?”

Lexa turns to look at Clarke then, swallowing hard. She doesn’t keep up the flirty conversation, though, and when Clarke looks over at her she’s wearing a more serious expression, brow furrowed.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Lexa asks quietly, “Last night.”

Clarke lets out a sigh, falling back into the passenger seat and looking out the window, eyes following the busy sidewalk outside.

She knew she wouldn't get away with avoiding the conversation all day. Especially seeing as she's spent the majority of their time flirting and blurring the lines of just what she and Lexa are.

“Talk to me, Clarke.” Lexa pleads.

"I like you." Clarke says, deciding to start with what she _does_ know, "I know that." She looks to Lexa, grimacing, "I just... I don't know what comes next."

"Okay." Lexa nods, "So... we work it out together."

"But what if we _can't_ work it out? I mean, sure. Today's been easy." Clarke says, "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm still angry." Lexa's expression falls, and Clarke rushes to continue, "I just mean- I _want_ to move forward with you. But I can't help the fact that sometimes I'm completely fine and I want to be with you, but other times I think about what happened and I start doubting us all over again. I _know_ I like you, Lexa. But that feeling that I can't completely trust you? Or that I might not be enough for you? I _don't_ know if that's going to go away."

Lexa is quiet, brow furrowed as she processes Clarke's words.

Clarke sighs, "I just don't want to let you think everything's okay when I could wake up tomorrow and be angry again."

"Don't worry about me."

“Lexa-”

"No, I'm serious." Lexa pushes, "Clarke, you need to stop thinking about everyone else for once. I want to try to fix this. If that ends with me getting hurt in the long run then that's on _me_. Not you." She says, "It's not your job to keep everyone else happy." She reaches over the center console, hand resting over Clarke’s, “Just… give me a chance. Let me prove to you that this can work.”

Clarke stares at their hands, and when she looks up to meet Lexa’s gaze, she finds nothing but sincerity in her eyes.

“I want to be with you, Clarke.”

The car feels like it’s suddenly shrunk in size, and Clarke just wants to lean over the console and press her lips to Lexa’s, to seek the comfort that she knows she’ll find in the girl’s touch. Because when she’s kissing Lexa, everything seems simple. When she’s kissing Lexa, she believes in everything that the girl is saying.

She wants to kiss Lexa, and she almost does.

But the sound of her ringtone stops her before she has a chance, and Clarke lets out an irritated breath before retrieving the device from her pocket, eyes remaining on Lexa as she answers the call.

It’s Octavia, screaming on the other end of the phone for the pair to get back to the cabin so they can prepare for the night ahead. Clarke barely even gets a word out before the girl hangs up the phone with a final demand to ‘get their asses moving’, and Lexa’s clearly heard it all as she laughs softly.

“Octavia?” she questions.

“Yeah.” Clarke sighs, “We should get back.”

Lexa offers Clarke a half-hearted smile, nodding, “Sure.” She says, unable to mask her disappointment as she turns away, going to switch on the ignition of the car, “Let’s go.”

* * *

When Clarke and Lexa get back to the cabin, their friends have already started drinking while they prepare themselves for the New Year’s Eve party that Octavia’s arranged for them that night.

Clarke attempts to get a moment with Lexa before they’re separated, but is instead handed a shot by Bellamy and tangled up in the pre-party celebrations while Lexa’s tugged off in the opposite direction. She hears Anya mention something about the girl needing to shower ASAP to accommodate her lengthy hair-styling process when it comes to dealing with her curls, and Lexa just sends Clarke an apologetic expression before allowing herself to be towed upstairs.

Clarke only sees Lexa again when they’re nearing Octavia’s deadline for when their ride to the party is arriving. She’s in the middle of wrestling with the zip at the back of her short black dress when she hears a light knock at the door, growling out permission for the person to come in as she continues her fight with the difficult garment.

When she looks over to the door to find Lexa there, Clarke lets out a relieved sigh.

“Thank god.” She grumbles, “Can you help me?”

She doesn’t receive an answer, and when Clarke looks back over at Lexa the girl is in the same spot at the door, wearing a dumbstruck expression.

“Lexa?”

Lexa seems to snap back to reality at her name, meeting Clarke’s eyes with flushed cheeks, “Um- yeah.” She mumbles, “Sorry.”

She closes the door behind her before moving almost cautiously towards Clarke, “You- uh… you’re cutting it late, aren’t you?”

It sounds like she’s struggling to keep it casual, and Clarke shrugs as she turns her back to Lexa, allowing her to zip her dress up.

“Bell kept distracting me with drinks.”

She feels Lexa release her dress after zipping her up, and when Clarke turns around, Lexa’s _right there_ , all too close and all too tempting as she watches Clarke with a hungry expression.

Lexa’s wearing a white button-up, black braces almost begging Clarke to reach out and pull the girl even closer to her. She reaches out to snap Lexa’s braces playfully instead.

“You look good.” Clarke says.

Lexa’s smile is warm, and Clarke’s cheeks feel hot under the intense gaze trained on her.

“Thank you.”

“Trying to pick-up tonight?” Clarke jokes lightly, attempting to work through the foggy arousal that’s currently clouding all her senses thanks to their proximity.

It’s not completely a joke, either.

Clarke’s stomach turns at the thought of the amount of girls that are bound to be approaching Lexa tonight when she’s looking like _this._

But Lexa doesn’t catch onto the hint of worry in Clarke’s tone, laughing softly in response, “I’ve got my eye on someone.” Lexa watches her with a soft smile, and her eyes glance over Clarke once more, “You look amazing.”

They’re really too close for Clarke to be able to think clearly, and she swallows hard, “Thanks.” She rasps, tongue running over her lips, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to finish talking.”

Lexa shrugs, a half-hearted smile on her lips, “Was there anything else to say?”

Clarke doesn’t answer, and she’s taken aback when Lexa steps even closer, eyes widening as she leans in. Clarke’s eyes are already closing as she anticipates the kiss, only to be disappointed when she feels soft lips against her cheek instead.

If Lexa notices Clarke’s misreading of the situation, she doesn’t let on, stepping back from Clarke with a smile, “Ready to go?”

Clarke just stares at her like an idiot, but as Lexa turns to leave her brain apparently remembers it serves an actual purpose, and her hand darts out to catch Lexa’s, “Wait- Lexa.” She says, coaxing the girl to turn back to her.

Lexa allows Clarke to pull her back over, arching a questioning eyebrow.

And really, this whole fancy outfit manages make Lexa’s already regal presence that much more intoxicating. Which, Clarke doesn’t exactly need when she’s already a wreck around her.

It takes Clarke a moment before she decides ‘fuck it’ and steps even closer to Lexa, leaning up and bring her lips to Lexa’s in a soft kiss.

It’s over moments later, their hands remaining linked as Clarke pulls away and looks up at a surprised Lexa.

“I just… wanted to you to know that I want to try.” Clarke says, “The things I said in the car are true but it doesn’t change the fact that I _want_ to work it out. Even if it’s hard. I want… I want to give us a chance.”

The genuine smile that tugs at Lexa’s lips makes Clarke’s stomach do somersaults, but of course Octavia’s spidey-senses must be tingling as her voice interrupts them yet again.

“CLARKE! LEXA!” she screams from downstairs, making Clarke roll her eyes, “GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE BEFORE WE LEAVE WITHOUT YOU!”

Lexa just grins at Clarke, not fazed by Octavia’s demands and holding her hand out for Clarke to take, “Come on.” She says, “Let’s bring in the New Year.”

When they make it downstairs, everyone is gathered near the front door, polishing off their drinks as they wait for their ride into town. No one questions Lexa and Clarke’s linked hands when they join them, and Clarke’s relieved that at least for tonight, she might get away without any intrusive questions from her friends.

Raven is at Anya’s side, a scowl on her face as she stares out the window at the freezing outside waiting for them.

“Where are we even going around here that needs us _this_ dressed up?” she complains, tugging at her tight dress, “I’m gonna freeze my ass off.”

“Get over it.” Octavia drawls, “We’re bringing in the New Year looking good. Besides, it’s a club. Everyone else will be dressed up.”

Raven glares at her friend, eyes moving to Lexa and scanning the girl’s outfit enviously, “Got any spare lady suits on you?”

Lexa grins, shaking her head, “Sorry.”

“Once we’re in the club you’ll be fine.” Octavia rolls her eyes, “You only have to be out in the cold for a second.”

“Yeah well if I get pneumonia, I’m blaming you.”

Octavia groans, opening the door and gesturing for everyone to leave, “Just go get in the damn car.”

* * *

The drive into town is spent with the group of friends hyping each other up, and when the group arrive at the club Octavia almost finds herself murdered at the hands of Raven for the wait in line to get inside. Raven is only calmed when Bellamy shrugs off his jacket, ignoring the biting glare from Anya as he hands it over to an oblivious Raven who practically cries in joy over the gesture. Clarke’s not so upset about the situation, seeing as it just means an excuse to cuddle into Lexa’s side and seek warmth.

In what could’ve been a significantly bad turn to their night if it hadn’t worked in their favor, the group are let into the event with barely a second glance at a few of their not-so legitimate ID’s, the security apparently more focused on getting out of the cold themselves rather than sticking around outside.

Once they’re inside the club, Raven is forced to give Octavia some credit as they’re greeted with the highly decorated event, filled to the brim with the guests celebrating amongst one another.

Clarke immediately goes to make a beeline for the bar only to have Octavia yell at the group to follow her first instead. It’s overwhelmingly crowded, and Clarke almost completely loses the group when she stops for a moment to take in the space. However Lexa is quick to notice that they’re losing Clarke, and reaches out to take Clarke’s hand before she can completely disappear in the crowd.

Lexa leans into her as they walk, her lips ghosting Clarke’s as she attempts to be heard over the noise surrounding them, “You can look at the pretty lights later.” She teases, and Clarke sends her a playful glare as she allows Lexa to lead her through the crowd.

They find their friends filling up a seating area that Octavia spotted when they entered, no doubt determined to lay claim to the space before they’re stuck on their feet all night; and once they’re settled a number of the group go off on a mission to retrieve them drinks.

Lexa’s amongst those retrieving drinks, leaving Clarke sat next to Wells, who looks at her with a curious expression. Clarke attempts to ignore it at first, eventually rolling her eyes and bumping her shoulder into her friend’s playfully, “What?”

Wells grins at her, “So you and Lexa, hey?”

Clarke groans, “Don’t.”

“I like her.” Wells continues anyway, “She seems genuine.”

He has Clarke’s attention at that, the girl looking to her friend hopefully, “You think so?”

Wells nods firmly, and Clarke can’t help the small measure of relief she feels. It’s nice to know that she’s not just believing Lexa’s sincerity due to rose-tinted glasses.

“You don’t think she’s another ‘Finn’?”

Wells laughs, “If I thought that, I wouldn’t be telling you I like her.”

Clarke grins, “True.” She chuckles.

“So are you together?”

“No.” Clarke shakes her head, “We’re just… seeing how it goes.”

Wells smiles at Clarke fondly, slinging his arm over her shoulder and pulling her close, “Well if it makes you feel good, I know what it looks like to be under that Clarke Griffin spell.” He teases, “And Lexa?” he says, nodding to where said girl is over at the bar, her own eyes trained on Clarke as Bellamy speaks to her, “She’s under it.”

Clarke’s gaze finds Lexa’s, who smiles back at her warmly, and Clarke turns back to Wells, rolling her eyes, “Has anyone ever told you you’re cheesy as hell?”

The boy lets out a loud laugh, “Yes, actually.” He grins, “It was you.”

* * *

Later in the night, once the group of friends are sufficiently drunk enough and the club is even more filled than before, they decide to leave the solace of their seating area and brave the dance floor, fighting their way through sweaty bodies and making a place for themselves amongst the crowds.

Monty and Jasper are tripping on god-knows-what, are almost lost to the crowds on numerous occasions thanks to the distractions of their surroundings. They’re only saved by Lincoln and, surprisingly, Murphy, who keep them barricaded inside the small circle the group have made on the dance floor and ensure the pair don’t wander off in their drug-induced state.

Clarke dances with Lexa most of the time, taking advantage of the cramped space to get as close to the girl as possible.

Lexa’s hands grip her waist tight as they dance and the feel of her breath against Clarke’s neck has Clarke reeling, the only thing stopping her from seeking out Lexa’s lips being the awareness of the wandering eyes of her friends. Because while she doesn’t really give a shit who knows, she’d prefer to figure out exactly what’s going on with Lexa before their whole friendship group is involved.

(Although, Clarke and Lexa’s inability to detach themselves from one another on the dance floor probably makes those efforts futile, anyway)

She loses Lexa to Bellamy, who drags the girl off with him to do shots at the bar and help him find someone to flirt with for the night. Lexa sends Clarke an apologetic smile as she leaves with Bellamy, and Clarke notes that she doesn’t feel the same jealousy over the new friendship as she did before, knowing that she hasn’t actually lost Lexa to anyone after all.

Clarke can’t blame Bellamy for his eagerness to separate from the group, anyway, the boy no doubt struggling with having a loved-up Raven and Anya in his immediate presence. To his credit, though, he deals with the situation a lot better than Clarke would, making efforts to maintain the friendship he and Raven are slowly rebuilding in the meantime.

Clarke continues dancing for a while, before eventually deciding to take a break. She finds herself up on the higher level that overlooks the dance floor, watching as drunken couples romance one another and friends make fools of themselves together.

There’s one girl crying hysterically in a booth, her friends crowded around her looking like they’ve dealt with this a thousand times and wearing impatient expressions as they console the girl and take thirsty swigs of their drinks. The sight is comical, and Clarke can’t help but feel sorry for the friends, knowing all too well how tedious it had been when Raven had entered a period of crying every time she drank.

Bellamy had been the one to connect Raven’s choice cheap bottle of gin to her tears, and they’ve all collectively made efforts to keep the girl away from the spirit ever since.

Clarke’s only snapped out of her people-watching when she feels a soft touch to her elbow, turning to find Lexa next to her, leaning her side against the rail and watching Clarke with an amused smile.

“And I thought _I_ was the loner between us.”

Clarke laughs at the girl’s teasing tone, shrugging, “I needed a break.” She shrugs, “You done with Bellamy?”

“He found a girl.” Lexa confirms.

“How’s he doing?”

Lexa shrugs, “He’ll be fine. He just needs time.”

Clarke nods, glancing down to Lexa’s hands then and finding her fiddling with a short-stemmed rose, arching an eyebrow, “Where’d you get _that_?”

Lexa grins, “Swiped it from some VIP booth.”

She steps closer to Clarke, reaching out to tuck the rose behind Clarke’s ear and smiling that same heartwarming smile when she meets Clarke’s eyes again, “It suits you.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, fighting her own grin and the burning of her cheeks, “You’re really trying hard tonight, aren’t you?”

The face Lexa makes in response makes Clarke laugh, and Lexa continues to stare at her in disbelief.

“What?” Lexa laughs with her then, “I’m _trying_ to be romantic.” She grins as Clarke continues to laugh, “Is it not working?”

“Depends what you’re trying to get out of me.”

The alcohol running through her system is definitely a contributor to Lexa’s apparent swagger as she regards Clarke with a charming smile, “I’ll take whatever’s selling.” She says, looking out at the dance floor, “So what’re you doing up here?”

“Just people watching.”

“Anything interesting?”

“I’ve seen a few crying girls.” Clarke offers, Lexa chuckling in response, “Other than that, everyone’s either making out or working on finding the person they’re kissing at midnight.”

“Speaking of,” Lexa says, “It’s almost midnight.”

Clarke glances down to the dance floor where the screen behind the DJ has been counting down throughout the night.

**_Fifty seconds._ **

An amused smile tugs at Clarke’s lips, and she turns to look back at Lexa “Is that why you came to find me?”

Lexa’s watching Clarke, grinning down at her, “Well I wouldn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Hmm, yeah.” Clarke laughs, “Of course you wouldn’t.”

“I mean, who knows. You could’ve had a moment with some striking stranger.”

“Well there  _was_ one hot guy at the bar.” Clarke teases.

Lexa shrugs nonchalantly, eyes swimming with amusement, “Ah, but he didn’t give you a rose, did he?”

“A stolen rose.”

“Exactly.” Lexa smirks, “I risked jail time for you.”

Clarke laughs, pushing at Lexa lightly, “You’re an idiot.”

Lexa just laughs with her, looking immensely proud of herself in this moment as she steps closer to Clarke.

Their banter is interrupted when the music cuts off, Clarke and Lexa looking down to the dance floor where the screen is now flashing, the DJ beginning the official countdown as the crowd begins chanting along.

**_“Twenty!”_ **

“Well would you look at that?” Lexa says, turning back to Clarke with a smug expression, “I guess you’re stuck with me.”

Clarke turns to face Lexa properly, tilting her head, “You’re assuming I even want a kiss at midnight.” She teases.

**_“Fifteen!”_ **

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lexa says, wearing a faux expression of bewilderment, “In that case I guess I can find someone else.”

Clarke grins, stepping closer to Lexa so their fronts are pressed together, resting her arms around the taller girl’s neck, “I mean, if you’re _really_ that desperate, I guess I can help you out.”

**_“Ten! … Nine!”_ **

Lexa’s hands settle at the small of Clarke’s back, “Did you just call me desperate?”

**_“Eight!”_ **

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

**_“Seven! … Six!”_ **

“Well, you’re not _completely_ wrong in this case.” Lexa reasons, Clarke laughing in response, fingers tracing patterns at the back of Lexa’s neck.

**_“Five!”_ **

“Lexa?”

**_“Four!”_ **

“Yeah?”

**_“Three!”_ **

“Just kiss me.”

**_“Two!”_ **

“But it’s not-”

Lexa’s sentence dies out as Clarke closes the distance between them, bringing her lips to Lexa’s in a soft kiss.

**_“One!”_ **

Clarke falls completely deaf to her surroundings as Lexa’s lips move against her own, one of Lexa’s hands leaving Clarke’s waist to cup her cheek instead as she deepens the kiss.

**_“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”_ **

Clarke feels Lexa smile into the kiss, which only prompts Clarke to press even closer to her, and as people celebrate around them and Lexa’s tongue traces invitingly along her bottom lip, Clarke decides that this year, she’s getting everything she wants.

* * *

After the countdown, Clarke finds it hard to think about anything other than Lexa, neither of the pair able to spend so much as a second without initiating _some_ form of contact with the other, whether that be stolen kisses or simple touches.

It’s definitely not how Clarke expected her New Year’s Eve to play out. But it definitely beats expectations. And for the time being, her doubts over Lexa are forgotten in favor of giving herself over to how she feels with the girl.

It’s some time after the countdown when they’re eventually pulled away from one another thanks to Bellamy, who drags them back to their friends so that the group can head back to the cabin. When they rejoin their friends everyone is visibly more drunk than when Clarke last saw them, Octavia practically hanging off of Lincoln and Raven looking like she’s seconds from seeing her dinner again.

The drive home is rowdy and once they arrive back at the cabin, it’s a mad rush to the kitchen for a drunken feast.

Clarke makes herself and Monty ridiculously indulgent PB&J sandwiches, perching herself up on the kitchen counter next to her friend while the others wander about like vultures. She’s not as drunk as everyone else, probably due to the fact that she spent the last two hours all over Lexa instead of drinking like the rest of the group.

Clarke watches Lexa, who stands on the other side of the kitchen with Bellamy, the pair excitedly discussing something that Clarke is sure exposes them both for the giant ass nerds that they are. When Lexa catches Clarke’s eyes from across the kitchen, she sends her a soft smile, and Lexa’s soon subtly exiting her conversation with Bellamy and making her way over to Clarke instead.

She comes to a stop in front of Clarke, hands resting on the girl’s knees and moving in between her legs, “You okay?”

Clarke nods, noticing Lexa’s eyes straying to her sandwich and holding it out to her. Lexa grins in response, accepting the sandwich and taking a bite while Clarke watches her with dark eyes.

The top buttons of Lexa’s dress shirt are undone now, her braces hanging at her sides and hair messy from the night out. Unsurprisingly, the scruffy look just manages to make her look that much more attractive to Clarke.

Lexa hands her back the sandwich, and her hands settle on either side of Clarke on the counter, “What’re you thinking?”

Clarke shrugs, swallowing the final bite of her sandwich before reaching out to brush her fingers through Lexa’s hair, “I’m thinking… I’m tired.”

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“If you’re ready.”

Lexa nods, stepping back and offering Clarke her hand, helping her down from the counter. The pair are barely even acknowledged as they say their goodnights to the rest of their intoxicated friends, Octavia being the only one to send Clarke a suggestive wink as they depart from the room hand-in-hand.

Once they reach the bedroom, Lexa closing the door behind them, the space immediately feels thick with underlying tension between them. Lexa squeezes Clarke’s hip as she passes her, and Clarke swallows hard as she watches the girl walk into the room, clipping off her braces as she does so and tossing them over to her bag.

Lexa turns around, noticing Clarke still standing at the door, “Clarke?”

Clarke snaps out of her frozen state at her name, offering Lexa a nervous smile, “Sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah.” Clarke nods, “Just- um-” she gestures to the back of her dress, needing some kind of distraction, “Can you unzip me?”

She turns around, hearing Lexa’s feet against the floor as she approaches, and as Lexa’s fingers brush her hair over her shoulder, tickling her skin lightly, Clarke decides this was probably the worst idea for a distraction from the situation that she could’ve come up with.

Clarke turns around once Lexa’s unzipped her, offering Lexa a murmured ‘thanks’ as she’s met with much darker green eyes than before. Lexa lingers there in front of her, looking at Clarke like she’d be happy to just stand there with her forever.

It’s when Lexa’s eyes move to Clarke’s lips that Clarke gives in, and the tension shatters as she closes the gap between them, pulling Lexa into her and bringing their lips together in a desperate kiss.

They’re a frantic mess as Lexa kisses her back eagerly, Clarke’s hands buried in Lexa’s hair and Lexa’s fingers digging into Clarke’s waist. When Lexa’s hands move to cup Clarke’s face instead, her tongue delving into her mouth and deepening the kiss, Clarke allows her dress to fall at her feet.

“ _Fuck_.” Lexa curses under her breath at the sudden expanse of skin bared to her, pulling away from Clarke’s lips and leaning down to kiss a trail down her neck to her chest.

Clarke’s fingers find the buttons of Lexa’s shirt as she pulls Lexa with her to the bed, bringing their lips back together as she crawls up the mattress and Lexa settles on top of her. She manages to get Lexa’s buttons undone and her hands seek toned abs immediately, Lexa letting out a heavy breath against her lips as she leans into Clarke’s touch.

Lexa nips at Clarke’s neck and Clarke arches up into her, hands darting to the buttons of Lexa’s pants. Lexa helps rid herself of the garment, kicking them off of her legs and returning to her place on top of Clarke straight after.

She kisses Clarke deeply then, bringing them to a much slower pace, and when she pulls back, brushing blonde hair out of Clarke’s face, her eyes are filled with affection that both makes Clarke’s heart swell and her stomach suddenly turn with discomfort.

Lexa doesn’t notice the sudden shift in Clarke, leaning back in to press kisses across her chest. Clarke attempts to ignore the sudden restlessness she’s feeling under Lexa’s weight, but it’s already too late to get her previous lust-filled daze back.

While everything in her begs for more when it comes to Lexa, to touch every sliver of skin available and kiss every inch of her body, the reality of being with Lexa like this again was yet to actually hit Clarke before now.

And while Lexa’s lips brushing across her collarbone sets Clarke’s skin alight, and her hands make Clarke feel more alive than ever, she can’t help the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability that comes along with it.

It presses down on her, making her chest clamp up and Clarke feels like she can barely breathe as Lexa’s hips grind against her own. Everything about her touch is so familiar, so intoxicating. She consumes her; and in a time where Lexa’s already taken Clarke’s trust and broken it? That’s terrifying.

Clarke only finds some relief when Lexa’s lips are on her own again, and she pushes into the kiss with the desperate need for reassurance that Lexa’s not going anywhere. That it’s okay to feel as much as she feels when she’s with her, and she’s not an idiot for giving herself over to Lexa like this all over again.

She wants this. She wants Lexa.

But even as Clarke attempts to wrestle Lexa’s shirt off of her shoulders, she can’t help the tears that force their way out of the corners of her eyes. Lexa doesn’t notice at first, allowing Clarke to take her shirt off and discard it on the floor, and Clarke pulls Lexa closer quickly in an attempt to hide the tears, burying her head in the crook of Lexa’s neck.

Her hands tangle in Lexa’s hair as she feels comforting kisses press to her neck, and Clarke curses herself as her breaths grow sharper and she realizes that she’s not going to be able to hide her tears.

She clamps her eyes shut as she fails to hold back a choked sob, and Lexa’s immediately pulling back from her as she realizes what’s going on.

“Clarke?”

Clarke’s hands move to cover her face in embarrassment, half wondering if she can make it to the bathroom and lock herself in there without Lexa catching up to her first, “I’m so sorry.” She blurts out, hating how her voice wavers.

“Hey.” Lexa murmurs softly, her hands pulling Clarke’s away from her face.

Clarke doesn’t look at Lexa, head lolling to the side in an attempt to avoid worried green eyes and wishing her tears away.

Lexa’s hands then cup her face, coaxing Clarke to look at her, “Clarke, it’s okay.” She pushes, kissing at the tears running down her cheeks delicately, “You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Clarke chokes out again, attempting to calm her breaths.

“It’s fine.” Lexa returns sincerely, brushing Clarke’s hair out of her face delicately, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Lexa lets out a soft laugh, “Clarke, please.”

Clarke huffs, looking at Lexa and feeling like an idiot at the genuine concern she finds written on the girl’s features, “I’m just…”

_Fuck_. She didn’t this to happen. Especially after how this night has been everything she’s wanted and more. But apparently, trusting Lexa doesn’t just come with one good night.

“What?” Lexa pushes.

“I’m scared.”

The admission is hushed, Clarke feeling more tears leave her eyes at the relief voicing it brings.

“Hey- it’s fine.” Lexa rushes as Clarke’s breaths grow sharp again, “Let’s just... stop. Okay?” she offers, “We don’t have to do anything.”

Clarke nods weakly, wiping at her cheeks, “Okay.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Clarke shakes her head firmly, swallowing, “Please, just… stay.”

Lexa’s eyes scan Clarke’s features unsurely, but she nods, “Okay.”

She climbs off of Clarke, settling at the edge of the bed and watching her worriedly for a second before she gets up.

Clarke’s sat up against the headboard, wiping at her eyes and at attempting to work through the embarrassment of the situation when Lexa returns to her, dressed in more comfortable clothes and handing Clarke her own.

Clarke accepts the clothes wordlessly, avoiding Lexa’s eyes as she pulls the sweatpants and oversized shirt onto her body.

When she’s done, Lexa’s holding her hand out to her, and Clarke frowns at her outstretched palm.

“Come on.” Lexa offers her a soft smile, “We should get out of here.”

Clarke doesn’t have the energy to ask questions, accepting Lexa’s hand and following her. Lexa’s decision to get her out of the room appears to be the right one, as the moment Clarke’s out of the space her breaths start coming easier.

She allows Lexa to lead her, the other girl pausing to determine if anyone is still up or not, and continuing downstairs once she’s satisfied no one is down there. When they reach the kitchen, a fond smile tugs at Clarke’s lips as Lexa goes to make them hot cocoa, and she watches on quietly as Lexa moves about the space.

They move to the living area once the cocoa’s done, Lexa visibly surprised when Clarke sits next to her on the couch instead of settling in an armchair. Silence hangs between them for a few moments, Clarke watching the steam rising from her mug.

“I’m sorry.” She says eventually, “I thought I was ready.”

“Stop saying sorry.” Lexa eyes drop to her mug as guilt traces her features, “I shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to do anything.”

“You didn’t.” Clarke’s brow furrows at the assumption, “I wanted to, Lex.” she says firmly, “It’s just… feeling that close to you again. It brought something out in me that I wasn’t expecting.”

Lexa nods weakly, swallowing the lump in her throat, “Is there anything I can do?”

“I think we just need to move slowly.” Clarke shrugs, “We can’t just jump straight back into things like nothing happened. It takes time.”

Lexa seems relieved at the fact that Clarke’s not completely calling it off between them, “We can go at your pace.” She agrees.

“I’m sorry for leading you on today.” Clark sighs, “It’s just… I want to be around you so much. It’s hard to figure out what I can and can’t handle.”

“You know you have a serious problem with saying sorry for things, right?” Lexa teases, “You didn’t lead me on, Clarke. We said we’d work through this together.” She shrugs, “This is what that looks like.”

Clarke eyes Lexa, only finding sincerity in her gaze.

She lets out a soft laugh of disbelief then, “You know, not many people are this cool when someone breaks down on them in the middle of sex.”

Lexa smiles, shrugging, “I mean, it’s a bit of a hit to the ego.” She admits.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“If it’s any consolation, I almost cried when we kissed last night.”

When Clarke’s eyes dart to Lexa’s, it’s obvious she immediately regrets the admission, and she laughs at Lexa’s embarrassed expression, “I could tell.” She teases, “Your lips were trembling.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, cheeks reddening, “Yeah, well it was intense, okay? I hadn’t been expecting it.”

“Who knew you were so emotional?”

Lexa grins, laughing softly with Clarke as she places her mug down on the coffee table, “I guess we both are.”

Clarke sobers, shrugging, “I guess so.”

She watches Lexa for a moment, heart swelling at the fact that instead of running away or closing off, Lexa’s still here, acting as the reliable foundation Clarke has spent the better part of her year wanting Lexa to be. While there’s still a long way to go before the trust is rebuilt between them, knowing Lexa’s here and willing to put in the effort is everything. And sitting with her now, Clarke really believes that this time they’re on the right track.

Clarke lets out a sigh, and she moves closer to Lexa, gently coaxing Lexa’s legs apart before turning around to lean back against her front.

She feels Lexa hesitate behind her for a moment before her arms wrap around Clarke’s waist and pull her closer into her, head resting on Clarke’s shoulder and relaxing into the embrace.

Clarke sips at her cocoa, enjoying the feel of Lexa’s body warmth wrapped around her, and deciding that for now, having Lexa like this is more than enough.

“I’m going to fix it.” Lexa says then, and Clarke feels her lips press a soft kiss to the expanse of her shoulder that’s bared by her collar, “I promise.”

And honestly?

Clarke believes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for being so patient with this update, and for all your well wishes with my cat. I really appreciate it and reading your messages made me smile, so thank you for being lovely. Hopefully this extra long chapter makes up for the longer wait!
> 
> So much happened lmao, and it was very clexa based so hopefully you enjoyed it :) I know a few readers were unsure about Lexa last chapter, because it didn’t seem like she was putting in effort, so hopefully this chap cleared what was going on there up. Now that she knows Clarke actually wants her in her life, she’s going to be doing her damn best to prove herself to her. 
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you thought of this one :) there was quite a mix of fluff, angst and almost smut so something for everyone lmao. Next chapter, Lexa and Clarke begin attempting to navigate their new dynamic, and I’ve already written a Raven/Octavia/Clarke scene concerning Clarke’s break down that I found ridiculously fun to write, so look out for that! Find me over on debnamridley on tumblr if you have any questions. In the mean time, leave some comments and let me know what you’re thinking! xx


End file.
